The 60th Annual Hunger Games
by Hlbur14
Summary: 12 year old Coco Blossom is picked for the dreaded Hunger Games, and with no knowledge at all of combat, she is certain she will die in bloodshed. But just because she hadn't learned to fight, doesn't mean she can't win... read and review :D
1. The Reaping

**1Please read and review, better than it seems... I think... OCs belong to me, but the Hunger Games belong to Suzanne Collins!**

**Let the Hunger Games begin! **

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><p>I stare up at the boy from District 6. His face is covered in blood, both his own and other tributes'. He must be blind in one eye, his left eye, as it is slit vertically from his brow to half way down his cheek. I can't even see what was left of his once blue orb. His unharmed eye is wild and bulging with hate at me. I try to wriggle free from his weight, his knees pinned into my tiny thighs, both my wrists collected in one of his hands. I beg him for mercy, plead with him to let me live, but he shakes his head and grins at me.<p>

"Nighty night." He growls, his voice gruff and sounding completely insane. The words fall over each other, like he can't say a simple sentence without slurring. He raises the blade he had in his free hand, high above his head. Before he plunges it into my chest, I go over everything that has happened to me over the course of five weeks.

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><p><em>Bloodshed and fear<em>

_for the ones we hold dear._

_Slaughter and savages,_

_in the arena that will hold ravages._

_Who shall be next, who shall be chosen,_

_who's turn is it to have their heart become frozen?_

_There is no way out once the Games begin,_

_and that is when everyone turns to sin. _

_One name shall be picked and many shall be spared,_

_and one by one their deaths shall be aired. _

_So without further or do, let the Games begin,_

_watch the blood spill as we all turn to sin._

Reaping day. The day every resident in District 10 dreaded. The time where every mother had nightmares of their children, the time where children knew they had a chance of dying. And this year, I was one who had nightmares centered around the Hunger Games. The chance of being picked. The chance to have my death seen worldwide. I had woken that morning feeling numb, paralyzed with fear under my sheets. I could have stared at that ceiling all day and not get bored, because if I could have, I would have to avoid hearing my name read out. My gut had been twisting so furiously with nausea that it was all I could do to keep my meal from the previous night down in my stomach.

There was a soft knock on my door, and my mother crept in with features that were both twisted with horror and fright. She had a red dress slung over her arm, which trembled in waves with her body. She was so pale, her lips and cheeks free of any colour they had once possessed. She had her brunette hair in a tight bun and drawn away from her face, looking tight on her scalp. Her blue eyes still glistened, but she had dark shadows under her eyes. She hadn't slept either then.

"Coco, come on, time to get ready." She said, but her voice cracked on every word. I swallowed and nodded stiffly. She gently pulled back the covers from my body and handed me the dress. I slipped into it, the skirt dancing around my quivering legs. Mother pulled a thick white ribbon around my waist, helping the dress to hug my body nicely, and tied a bow around my back. She had a pair of scissors in her hand and she came to stand in front of me. She told me to close my eyes and she trimmed my fringe, adjusting it into a side fringe and brushing it across my forehead. She did nothing else with my hair, it was too short and spiky to do anything with. I had had it cut to just below my jaw, long hair always irritated me. Mother chopped it herself: she was very handy with a pair of scissors at hand. She looked out a pair of black flats for me to slip my feet into before she took in my appearance.

"Lovely." She murmured. I lowered my eyes from her and shivered, the dress rippling with me. She pulled me into her arms and kissed my head several times, and I clung to her embrace. "Shh, everything will be alright, you'll see." She whispered. I relished her warmth, let the sound of her heartbeat run through my ears. I breathed in her scent, the smell of daisies and strawberries, and smell that belonged only to her. In her embrace I felt protected and loved, and i knew that there was a chance that that feeling would be ripped away from me by the call of my name. But I had to be brave and not believe in the inevitable. I won't get picked. There was no way I would get picked. I would come home tonight to a nice chicken dinner, and chatter with my family happily. We would then sit around the fire with warm cups of tea and carry on as normal, only to pray for the poor souls chosen in my place. Everything would be alright. I would be alright.

At the dining table were my siblings. Twenty year old Ash, my brother, and nineteen year old Myth, my sister. Yes, they had survived the six years of the Hunger Games threat, but I was only about to begin. The two of them looked ill with worry, their plates of food untouched. We didn't do bad for a living, really, earning enough to keep our bellies full, but there were days where we suffered from hunger. But they didn't last long. My father and Ash helped at the butchers, earning meat as reward and sometimes money. We never complained. We often helped people in the District who struggled for food, and we were a fairly popular family in the area. "The family of Blossoms." we often got addressed as. People often said that once we enter a room, one of us or all of us, the room blossoms.

A seat next to Myth was available, a bowl of porridge waiting for me. My stomach groaned in protest and they all saw my hesitance.

"Come on, Coco, you have to eat." Ash encouraged. I nodded and sat down, welcoming Myth's arm around my shoulders. I trembled, forcing my breakfast down my throat and trying not to heave.

"Listen, you know that the chances of you being picked are like, four in a million?" Myth said, mussing my hair.

"There's still that four." I muttered to my bowl, my bravery burning to dust already. Me and Myth, we were very alike in appearance. Both with hair so dark it was close to black, both with the same smouldering brown eyes. We had the same skin colour, a little on the pale side but with pink blushes faint on our cheeks. Perhaps, if not for the age difference, we could have been mistaken for twins. Ash, however, had light brown hair with baby blue eyes, his hair scruffy on his head and curling around his ears. His skin was slightly darker than ours, because of working in the fields with the cattle and what not, like our father. Also, he was incredibly tall, whereas me, Myth and mother were all tiny, me especially. I didn't even reach Ash's shoulders, and Myth was a head shorter than him.

We stayed quiet all morning after my clear fact, and in all honesty, I didn't want to talk. Father had gone to the butchers early, which angered me in a way. He'd rather be there than be here with me comforting me. The Reaping started at twelve, where Evey Cloversign would stand at the town centre, two bowls on either side of her: one for the boys and one for the girls. Evey was a strange woman, always wearing high heels each years, her hair bright green that flowed like water down her back. She liked to wear pastel blue lipstick and brightly coloured dresses. And her voice, so unnerved each year as she called out the names who would face their deaths. She would always smile, and I hated her for it. She sent my brother's best friend to the Capitol, to be prepped for the Arena, and he never came back. We all watched him die on screen to an axe in the back. He didn't even last two minutes.

It was now eleven in the morning, and I was so close to throwing up it was unreal. The unnatural churn on my gut was enough to send my head spinning. I bumped into a few of my friends, who would also be attending the Reaping, and the thought of them being picked was almost as bad as the thought of me being picked. Amongst them was Masis Basilflee, a boy who was a year or so older than me. He had escaped the clutches of the Reaping last year, both he and his friends, but the fear that took him today was more immense. His sad grey eyes met mine as I left the house, before he followed his family towards the town's centre. I let out a shaky breath and took my mother's hand as she led me to the Reaping, my siblings following silently.

It was a good half an hour walk to the centre, and we were in no rush. I hoped that the walk would take forever. But of course it didn't. The closer we got, the more sick I felt. I found myself gripping onto my mother's hand more tightly, fighting back tears of dread. Our father joined us as we past the butchers, is face solemn. I pushed away any anger I felt and clung to his hand with my free one, and he bent down to kiss my head several times. That was enough for me. So my entire family went to the Reaping to see how my fate went down.

In the yard, fenced which was just that, a deserved yard in the shape of a square. No buildings, no trees, not even any nice scenery. Just a prepared stage with a large TV, and then a fence behind it that surrounded the entire district. There, I had to go to the front on the many children awaiting their fates, my family unable to join me. The Peacekeepers made sure of it, blocking them from following me any further into the yard. I loathed them people in the white suits beforehand, I loathed them ten times more when they stopped my family from supporting me. But I made my way to the front, mingling into the huge group of twelve and thirteen year old boys and girls.

I met with my friends, hugged them and wished them good luck, Masis being one of them. Venna Swish, a fourteen year old blond girl who was my best friend, was in tears at my side, clenching my hand in hers so tightly she stopped the blood flow. Even though the age difference made our friendship odd, she was like another sister to me, and I to her. So she had an extra person to worry over. She's so very poor, almost always starving, and even with my help of giving her meat it was never enough. To make up for it she took tesserae, putting her name towards the Hunger Games far more times than myself. I had only got four pieces of paper in the girls' bowl with my name on, having took some tesserae myself and for my family for good measures. It wasn't necessary, but it was more for the citizens in the District than ourselves. Yes, we were all selfless, and we didn't care. My mother hadn't made me do it but I insisted, for the sake of my friends. Venna has had her name put in so many times she had lost count. And so has her five siblings who were all above twelve years old, so she was dreading having her name picked or a member of her family and now myself.

And then Evey Cloversign appeared, her hair still long a bright green, pastel blue lipstick still plastered on her lips. She grinned down at us, waving pleasantly, as she came to stand in between the two horrid bowls of names. The anthem of Panem began to play, which ignored, followed by the speech of our president, President Snow, who I wanted dead. He did this to us. He was the reason we were here. He was then one that was sending us to our deaths. His speech meant nothing to me. Normally our Mayor would tell the speech, but he was executed shortly after the last Games for reasons unknown to us. So the Capitol concocted a video of Snow telling the speech himself, specially for us. The loathing that rose up inside me was painful, and even though he couldn't see me, poor defenceless little Coco, I glared daggers at him on screen.

And then Evey spoke up once the speech ended. "Welcome to the 60th annual Hunger Games!" she cried happily. "May the odds be ever in your favour! Now then, who shall we have first? I think the ladies, can't be rude!" and then she trotted over to the bowl stuffed with girls names, placing in her hand and pulling out a name from the very bottom. I held my breath, listening to Venna wheezing beside me and listened to everyone else hold their breaths. She pulled out the slip, raised it to her line of sight, and read out a name.

"Coco Blossom, up you come!"


	2. Goodbyes

The scream of my mother was deafening at the back of the crowd, but no heads turned to her. That was a normal reaction. But the scream of terror that left my lips had everyone looking at me in dismay, and some rushed over to keep me on my feet. Venna fell to the ground in a wreck, gripping my hand even more tightly in her angst. People pried her hands free from my own and led me to the isle that led to the stage, but that didn't go without a fight. Peacekeepers rushed over to me, judging that I would make a run for it. I did. I saw Ash dash towards me, reaching for me as he yelled my name.

"Ash!" I shrieked so loudly it didn't even sound like a word, just an awful screech. Peacekeepers came to stop him but he thrashed out towards me and I tried to leg it for him. But a Peacekeeper, a man, gathered me into his arms and carried me to the stage. I tried to fight him, screaming as loud as I could, and still tried to reach for Ash. He was being dragged back to the others, still bellowing my name. I knew how awful I must have seemed, how pathetically weak I was, but I couldn't help it. I wanted to live! The twist in my gut was so painful I screamed some more. The panic, the terror, the need to run was so overwhelming I simply wept on the shoulder, reaching hopelessly for mother, father, Myth and Ash. They were so far away. They were blurred in my vision. But still I reached for them, sobbing uncontrollably, but we all knew my time was up. This time next week, I was going to be dead.

The Peacekeeper placed me down on the stage but didn't release my arm. However, knowing that there was no way of escape, I collapsed to the floor, weeping into the wood. How pathetic I was, but how else was I supposed to react? I was weak, everyone knew that, and to be sentenced to my death was beyond handling. I was already seeing my death before my eyes. Beheaded, torn apart, speared, blow to the head, beaten to death, loss of blood... all of it consumed me with fear. I trembled like a leaf in a gale, and through my weeping I heard Evey give a sound that resembled her clearing her throat. I was glad she felt awkward, the stupid Capitol escort. I hoped she felt guilty enough to hate herself.

"Well, let us not waste any time is choosing our male tribute, shall we?" she said to the audience. Brilliant, she was going to pull out the name who was probably going to kill me. Someone from my own District. Perhaps they'll become my ally, but then they'll backstab me anyway. I pictured a shadows boy, coming up behind me in my sleep and slitting my throat. Already the nightmares were beginning. I listened to Evey rummage her hand through the boys' names, and then she took a breath so she could read it clearly to everyone.

"Loki Thicket, come on up!" she called, her voice happy again. I lifted my head in shock and utter terror. Loki, Loki Thicket, was the boyfriend of my own sister! No! Myth gave a wail of distress, screaming in even more agony. No, no, no, no! This couldn't be happening! Loki, the boy who was eighteen and always looking out for me. Loki, the boy who met Myth through me when I tripped and fell at the age of nine, and carried my crying form to my sister. The boy who played games with me, who came for tea every other night, who helped me with homework. The boy who was my sister's whole world.

I watched him walked to the stage, his horror reflecting my own. Jet black hair that curled around his ears, like Ash's, and eyes that were as black as coal but as warm as fire. He was tall and lean, his normal handsome strong face twisted into a look of self loathing. He wore black trousers and a blue button down shirt, looking dashing on this depressing day. He came on stage and lifted me to my feet without hesitation, holding me close. The Peacekeeper didn't try to pull him free, only left us be. The sound of Myth's cries were heart retching, enough to make me want to curl up into a ball and sob for the rest of my useless life. Loki, the boy I would either have to kill, be killed by or watch getting killed.

I heard the announcement of our mentor, Cian Blackwell, a man who won the Games twenty years before. He was now thirty four, and our lives rested in his hands. He won his Games by creating a den in the ground, living and preying in it for the majority of the Games. When a tribute passed, reaching a fresh lake for water, he leapt out and slit their throats. Quick. Simply. But when it came to the final five, and the other tributes caught onto his strategy, he had to face them in head to head combat. He killed each one without being scathed. I had seen his strategy on the victor recaps played now and then, and because he play his games so lethally and silently, it stayed in my mind. And now he was going to teach us how to kill.

The anthem began to play and Cian led us silently to our Justice Building, the place where we would have to say our goodbyes. Loki hand my hand tightly in his and refused to be in a separate room, refused to leave me alone. I was equally clingy, despite the fact that he was now my enemy. But I couldn't bring myself to let go of his hand, so I let him pull me along as we followed Cian, crying quietly into his waist. Once inside, surrounded my brown walls, bookshelves and two red arm chairs, Loki picked me up and hugged me so tightly I nearly choked.

"I'm sorry, kiddo." He whispered. I sniffed and buried my face in the crook of his neck. Gently he placed me down in one of the red chairs and sat on the arm beside me. Cian had disappeared, not having said a single word to us yet. I didn't care. I was too busy thinking on how Loki would end up being the one to kill me. A few minutes passed, and then Myth, Ash, mother and father slammed through the door, followed by Loki's family. We have an hour to say our farewells. I reach out my arms to my father, who instantly takes my from my seat and holds me to his chest, crying into my hair.

"How could this happen?" Myth was wailing. Her voice was muffled, because her face was in Loki's chest and she was also trying to reach for me at the same time.

"Coco, we're so sorry." Ash was also a wreck, but his face was flushed with rage. "We would have volunteered for you, we would have!"

"Ash, there's nothing we can do." Mother murmured. Father settled me on the ground and I went into her embrace, crying silently into her chest. I heard Loki's family, just his parents and older brother, murmuring to him, Myth now crying into father's chest. I received kisses, hugs, tears, the whole lot. Loki's family also came over to embrace me, murmured how sorry they were for me. After fifteen minutes, everyone had puffy red eyes and red noses, sniffling endlessly. And then a Peacekeeper came in to usher everyone out. Ash put up a fight, as did Myth, but they were shoved out forcefully.

"We love you, Coco! We love you so much!" was the last thing I heard from them. Loki's family left in calmer manner, giving him last hugs, kisses and loving words. They left in a huddle, the Peacekeeper shutting the door quietly behind them. I buried my face in a cushion, yelling into it. Loki simply rubbed my back. I was never going to see my family again. I was never going to live my normal life again. I was going to be trained to fight, beautified for public appearances, and then stuffed in an arena like a piglet read for slaughter. I was done for.

The door barged open again, and Masis and Venna dashed through it and leapt onto me. They were both crying, and no words could be said. The three of us simply hugged each other, and Loki was soon occupied with a few friends of his own. But the times they left, I was all cried out, and I sank to the ground with an empty heart. And then there was nobody else. Me and Loki were alone, waiting for the train that would take us to the Capitol. I staggered slowly over to him, now sat in the red chair, and collapsed into his body. I listened to his heartbeat, a sound that probably had a short time limit.

I won't forget when I first met Loki. I had been running around, playing tag with Myth. She was gaining chase on me, threatening to tag me and win the game. I was laughing hysterically, looking back to see where she was. I ran through the many farm animals, even leaping over some cows, to ensure my escape. I weaved in between homes and hid behind homes, and sure enough I had lost Myth. It was when I turned to run that I fell, and at the same time there was a distressed horse that got spooked from my sudden appearance. It had shrieked and stood on its hind legs, kicking its front legs and wailing down at me. I was paralyzed with fear, waiting for the hooves to slam down on my skull, listening to the horrified rider on the chariot. But one moment I was at the horse's mercy, and the next I was being dragged free from it range. A fifteen year old Loki had practically saved my life.

"You okay, kiddo?" he had asked me, cradling me to his chest as he stood. I was crying, stricken with terror of what had just happened. "Hey, hey, it's alright, I'm here now. No horse is going to hurt you."

"Coco!" Myth had bellowed in horror, seeing me crying in the boys arms and the frightened horse a few meters from us. "What happened? Is she alright?"

"She's fine, just a little shaken." Loki had said. Myth let out a shaky breath and made a move to reach for me, despite the fact she was slightly weak when it came to carrying me. "It's alright, I've got her. Names Loki." Loki had told her.

"Thank you so much, Loki." Myth had said gratefully.

"Thank you." I had also whispered, finally controlling my weeping. He had then carried me home with Myth and stopped for tea. Once he was in our lives, he never left.

And now, curled up on his lap, I had never been more terrified. That horse was like facing a mouse compared to this. My heart was heavy in my chest, my eyes bulging with fear, my cheeks stinging to no end. We remained silent for the rest of our time in the room. And then before we knew it, we were being stuffed in a car and taken to the train station. Once there, we were swarmed by the reporters and cameras, desperate to capture our faces to broadcast all over the world. Loki shielded me from them, keeping me close to his side as he led me through the crowd. We piled onto the tribute train, and the chaos was silenced once the door slid shut.

Fancy and charming, the train was too posh for my liking. We were met by Evey, a huge grin on her face, as she explained that were had our own chambers with a bedroom each. She also said that we were to meet for dinner in two hours. But I ignored her completely, shoving past her and followed the Capitol assistant, a woman with long blue hair, to my room. Once there I slammed the door shut, hearing Loki's slam just moment after down the aisle. I went straight to the double bed waiting for me, shoved my face into the pillow, and screamed until no sound could escape my lips.


	3. Tribute Train

Half an hour before lunch, my throat painful, I slowly got changed from my dress to a pair of trousers and a basic blue top. I had a choice from flashy dresses, plain shirts, boring trousers, or some ridiculously coloured clothing. I kept to the low profile. I ruffled up my hair in the mirror of a dressing table and furiously rubbed my bulging eyes, wincing with the stings. I carefully folded my red dress, smelling slightly of mother when she had handled it. My mother, who was now miles and miles away from my grasp, along with the rest of my family. I vaguely wondered what they were doing, and I pictured them weeping in the kitchen of our home. But I shook the thought away. I had said my goodbyes, I had thrown my tantrum of pain and anger, now I had to let go. I opened the door slightly, and Evey was on the other side, her fist just about to knock on the door. She gasped and then giggled, ushering me out of my room.

"Come, come, lunch is ready." She said, grasping my hand I so badly wanted to keep from her reach. It took all I had to not wrench my hand away, but I let her lead me to the dining cabin down the aisle. Once there, Loki was already seated with Cian who was sipping some red wine. His face, the first time I took real notice, was blank with hidden emotion. His light brown hair was straight, falling just below his ears, his fringe threatening to blind him. He was thin but muscular, and he owned a strong jaw line, high cheek bones and dazzling green eyes. And those eyes looked haunted upon my entry, but he smiled slightly in greeting. It was a forced smile. Loki patted a chair next to him, which I took without resistance and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

Food. Food all over the table. Bread rolls, steak meals, lush puddings, and there were so many I couldn't name. Stews, fruit, vegetables, salads. The table was nothing but colour, and in reaction my mouth filled will saliva. All I could do was stare at the food, some steaming hot, others seemingly there for decoration. I had never seen so much food in one sitting. Our meat at home was nice enough, but the meat here, from steaks to chicken legs, looked full of juice just waiting to flow inside my mouth. My stomach gave a loud growl of longing. And I wasn't one to leaving my stomach hanging.

"Eat up, everyone!" Evey said, taking a seat at the end of the table. I lunged for a chicken leg first, singing my teeth into it and let the juices flow. So rich, so pure, so... divine! I shuddered with pleasure, taking huge bites and barely chewing them. I soon got indigestion, but I could stop. Before I knew it, I was nibbling at the bone. Evey, I noticed, had her eyes trained on my hands, and I realised that I was eating in the wrong manner. And I couldn't give a damn. Neither could Loki, as he was eating two legs in one go. Cian didn't say anything, but his eyes held some slight humour. I dropped the bone onto the plate provided in front of me and reached for another leg.

"Couldn't you at least eat with a knife and folk?" Evey said, eyeing me. In answer, I grabbed a steak piece, just cool enough to pick with my fingers. She shook her head and said no more. I felt Loki chuckling beside me and I grinned up at him mischievously. A steak and a leg later, I attacked a steaming chocolate pudding, but had the decency to put it on my plate and disposing of the bone, throwing it on a second plate to my left. I broke the sponge with a spoon, and chocolate sauce pooled out. I gobbled it down, ignoring my burning tongue, and licked the plate clean. Somehow, I managed to keep my face clear of chocolate. Finally, I broke my teeth into a shiny green apple.

"Hungry, Coco?" Loki said, watching me with a grin. He had had two portions of cheesecake, and he seemed complete stuffed. He ate a lot me than me, as his lifestyle wasn't as well lived like ours. His family suffered enough to need tesserae every other month.

"Starving." I answered, tearing away at the apple, the juice slightly sour in my mouth but delicious all the same.

"Everyone needs a good appetite," said Cian. "right, Evey?" his voice was low and strong, the voice of a killer. But somehow I wasn't frightened by his voice. Evey gave him a dark look.

"Table manners would be nice." She snapped. I giggled, unable to stop myself. Hell, if I was going to be an animal for slaughter, I might as well enjoy what time I had left.

"Keep eating like that, missy, and you'll be all muscle in no time." Cian said. I met his eyes and he winked at me. Suddenly, people came over to take out plates and the remaining food away, leaving us with an empty table. I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed. I may have been full, but if I had the choice, I would have been able to get more food down me. If I didn't throw up, that meant more food could be consumed. As I watched the dishes being cleared, I heard Evey speak up.

"Well, I'll leave you two with Cian. So much to learn in such little time!" and with that, she left. Simultaneously, me and Loki looked towards our mentor, who was drinking both of us in and searching our faces. Without a beats pause, he spoke.

"Well, let's get started then. First of all, your reactions at the Reaping were enough to cause a stir with the public." He said, watching us carefully.

"Stir?" Loki asked.

"Yes. Because of how you embraced Coco here when you got on stage. They will be excited, because if they know that you two have a lot to do with one another, they'll be longing for the end result." He explained.

"That's bad?" I asked quietly.

"Not if we play it right." He said with a smile. "First of all, when you get to the Capitol, we need to transform you both into things you're not."

"I don't want to change." I said with slight horror creeping into my voice. It was bad enough that they were sending me to my death, but changing my whole being made it worse somehow. If I was going to die, I wanted to die as Coco Blossom, not some girl pretending to be someone I'm not.

"Coco, if the other tributes see you as weak, the way you showed yourself on stage today, you'll be dead in the first five minutes." He said harshly. I cringed from his words, lowering my eyes to my hands that rested on my lap.

"Lay off." Loki spat darkly, rubbing my back. I looked back at Cian through my fringe, glaring darkly. He watched me, and then tapped his chin. I shook my head to rid my fringe and met his gaze full on, glowering at him. Then he gave a crooked smile and I cocked my head at him.

"What?" I demanded through a hiss. But he simply shook his head and waved the demand off, changing the subject. This annoyed me immensely. I couldn't help but think that this man was slightly off, but then again, he went through hell when he was a kid, victor or not. He had the blood of those tributes on his hands.

"Now, what are your strengths? Weaknesses? Give me something to work with."

"I'm good with a axe." Loki answered. An image of an axe came to mind, only it was lodged in the confinements of my skull. My meal threatened to make an appearance. Loki was indeed good with an axe, he chopped up wood all day. His family sold logs and wooden furniture for a living, so he had been working with an axe the majority of his life.

"Good. And you?" Cian asked me. The first thing I thought of was my incident with the horse three years ago, and how I had spooked the horse with my sudden appearance.

"Running." I answered without hesitation.

"That may keep you alive for a few days, but once the numbers start to fall, you'll need something better." He told me, and I already knew that. If I survived long enough, I would have to face the head to head and one point or another. The Gamemakers would make sure of it.

"I'll teach you how to fight once we get to the Training Centre." Loki assured me. And it saddened me. He was going train me how to fight so that I stood a chance of killing him. And I knew I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it.

"I think you two are going to give the audience quite a show." said Cian, earning glares from both of us. "Hey, that's good, give them something to watch then the more sponsors you'll get." He added quickly.

"I'm done." I snapped, rising to my feet and marching to my room. He was enjoying this, he was actually enjoying our situation! Maybe he was a madman, suffering from his own experiences mentally, but that didn't stop me from suddenly hating him. He would probably not send us any gifts at all and instead would sit back, enjoying the scenes of us getting killed. Oh, I bet he'd love that! Family friends going head to head, and then having a sister/girlfriend hate one of us should we return home. Yeah, pure entertainment, that is!

No one pursued me as I locked myself in my room. I skipped dinner, despite Evey's knock on the door. I ignored Cian, who demanded I come out after. I even ignored Loki, who insisted on simply talking. But I couldn't face him. I couldn't look at him without thinking of Myth. Myth. How was she coping? How would she be able to watch one or both of us die? It would completely crush her! I tried to push her out of my thoughts, tried to forget, but my heart longed for them. Their warmth, their scents, their voices. I needed them, but I was here alone, drowning in my own sorrow and fear. If a tribute didn't kill me, my emotions probably would. All I wanted to do was disappear, wake up from this nightmare. Curl up into a ball and drown in my angst.

Loki knocked again about two hours after the first time, and I knew it was late. Darkness had fallen, my room now consisting of dark shadows. I lay on my belly on the bed, hugging the pillow and completely ignoring him. He pressed for me to open the door and I clenched my eyes shut, begging silently for him to leave. Then I heard a thud against the door, the movement of fabric sliding down it, and then I heard the weeping. Loki, the boy who I had never seen cry, was now crying against my door. Silently I crept to the door and sat on the floor, listening through the wood. He was muttering how sorry he was, how much he loved my sister, and how he refused to be the one to kill me. Over and over again he repeated them. Over and over. Unable to take anymore, I opened the door and let him in.

The two of us sat in a heap on the ground, crying silently in one another's arms. I had my head tucked under his chin, sniffing and suffering from hiccups, and his arms enveloped me, his legs crossed. We didn't sleep that night, too busy suffering from our fates and Myth's. We didn't speak, only listening to the ragged breath we both owned. And we watched the sun come up, watched the wilderness turn to a cityscape. Trees replaced with tall buildings. Silence replaced with the roaring of car engines. Even in dawn, bright lights shone through the window, blinding us. Slowly we got to our feet, hand in hand, and went over to the glass. We were here. The Capitol awaited us.

The further we got into the city, the brighter the world became. Colours as radiant as the sun, which I soon realised were people. Buildings so tall we couldn't see the tops, the rising sun forbidding it. Advertisements of so many products, most of them food, and the sight of them made me regret missing dinner. We could see people pointing our way, their strange faces brightening. We saw banners of our faces already in the open, and I saw myself being shielded by Loki. TV screens flashed with our faces and districts. And then we began to slow, the train pulling into the station.

"Come on, you two!" Cian yelled, banging on the door and making us jump. Hesitantly we went through the door just as the train stopped, and once we left the train, we were blinded by more flashes of cameras and deafened by shouting reporters. Until we reached the Training Centre, everything went by in a blur. We were here now. We were at the Capitol's mercy. It was here that the Games truly began for us tributes.


	4. The Fox And The Wolf

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><p>Above my head from where I lay were three women, the three of them grinning with twisted lips. As soon as I had gotten to the Remake Centre I got separated from Loki and engulfed with these women, my prep team. Lizzie, Pearl and Flow. They had run over to me and stripped me down before examining my weak body. And then they'd began waxing my entire body, aside from my hair, and tore out all the tiny hairs that consumed me. They'd washed my hair and cleaned all the grime from my skin, and in my hair they rubbed wax into it, spiking it out in all directions. Sure enough they had attended to my nails and coated my skin in moisturiser, making it the smoothest it had ever been. So now, once they were finished, they were grinning down at me with eyes that were very happy with their job.<p>

"I think we're ready for Martha now!" exclaimed Lizzie, looking towards the other two. Lizzie was tiny, about the same height as me, with bright purple hair and frighteningly pale skin. Her whole face was plastered in makeup, so much so it was hard to determine whether she was pretty or not. All I could tell was that she was small, thin and loved bright colours. The other two were the same, only taller, Pearl with red hair and Flow with dark blue. The colours were so bright they actually hurt my eyes.

"No! Eyebrows! Just look at them!" bellowed Flow in disgust. In seconds they were attacking my eyebrows, plucking at them and thinning them out. I winced, tears blurring my vision. My entire body stung and I felt completely raw, and I was surprised that my skin didn't glow a steady red. Once they were done with my brows, they came to the conclusion that they were indeed finished, and when to fetch my alleged stylist. Flow, who stayed behind, got me to my feet and put a robe on me. I felt as if my skin was on fire, and all I wanted to do was get into a tub of ice.

"Perfect, you may be dismissed, ladies." Came an angelic voice all of a sudden, and from a door in front of me, this Martha breezed through. She was very much like a Capitol member, wearing heavy makeup and had her hair, which was actually a nice auburn, tied up and flying out in all directions like a mop on her head. From what I could tell, she was in her late twenties/early thirties (she wore slightly less makeup than the prep team). She was dressed in a cream strapless dress that fell just below her knees, the fabric looking to be like silk by the way it rippled with her movements. She wore high heels, too, only she could actually walk in them unlike most of the Capitol residents I had seen. The prep team, for example, had to take tiny steps in theirs to stop from flying. Martha came over to me as the prep team left with excited chatter, and much to my annoyance, she cupped my face and turned my head this way and that.

"Lovely." She said, smiling. I said nothing, only watched her with cold eyes. "The spiky hair I was unsure of, but it turns out to be the right decision. Come, come, let's have a talk in my office." She led me through the door she had just come from into her office, where two blue sofas were positioned facing one another with a low round table between then, it top made from glass. On the table was a tea pot with two tea cups, milk and sugar cubes. She plonked me down on the sofa and strode to the other side and poured me a cup of tea, asking if I wanted sugar and milk. I nodded, asking for two sugars and a tiny bit of milk. Cautiously I took the cup from her grasp.

"So, excited for tonight, Coco?" she asked, sipping her own tea. Tonight. The tribute parade. The time where the tributes are placed of chariots pulled by horses in costumes that resembled their districts. Each year, the districts either had the same costumes or they got more ridiculous each year. For example, last year, District 12 were humiliated by taking the chariot strip naked and coated in black to represent coal. Ours was pretty horrendous, too, but dressing as a cow was better than being naked. In my opinion, the parade made me disgusted, even for a twelve year old. Beautifying the tributes, try and make them look spectacular, when in a week's time the majority of them would be dead. To answer Martha's question, I lowered my eyes and continued to sip my tea. She wasn't fazed by my silence.

"This is the time to make you and your fellow tribute look marvellous!" she said happily. "Tanya, Loki's stylist, thinks that were should do something slightly different than dressing you two as a pair of cows." That caught my attention and she grinned over her cup, her eyes training on mine.

"What exactly are you going to dress me as?" I asked quietly, suddenly a little nervous.

"Well, I have had words with Cian, and he thinks that we should create an allusion of a hidden personality. He spoke with me while you were on the trip here. Tell me, do you get many animals attacking your cattle at home?" it was hard to keep up, but I answered nonetheless.

"We have foxes and what not." I shrugged. "We had a wolf one year, but a man shot it."

"Precisely what Cian said." She said, pleased. "And seen as you're going into that arena to kill, why not make you a killer instead of prey?"

"You lost me." I said.

"Well, people think you're weak, what with your performance at the Reaping. So, we need to make you look like the opposite; strong, cunning, dangerous." She told me. "Do you like foxes?" I did like foxes, they fascinated me. I admired their stealth and tricks, their sleek bodies while they hunted. Creatures of the night. Professional killers. The barks chilling enough to send chills down your spine if heard in the middle of the night. So I nodded and she grinned some more, clapping her hands and draining her cup.

"What will Loki be dressed as?" I demanded, finding myself to be unconventionally curious. She smiled and cocked her head.

"The fox meets the wolf."

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><p>As it turns out, Martha and Tanya, a woman with jet black hair that fell past the small of her back and at face that was ridiculously pointy, had sorted everything before our arrival. Cian had told them that I had a temper and wasn't completely weak, and that Loki was equally temperamental but with a more vicious side to him. Our sizes also helped come up with the idea.<p>

So for me, Martha had concocted a dress with was a mix of white, orange and tinges of red, which was made to look torn into many layers to make it look fine, like fur. The front of the dress was white, like the belly of a fox, and the rest was orange and red. She and the prep team sprayed my arms and legs orange, painting brown and red lines here and there for extra effect. The dress fell to my knees, cut and torn at the hem and was strapless around my chest. They painted my upper chest and neck in different shades of white, along with my jaw line. My nails had been adjusted with fake black claws, and I was told be on the chariot bare foot, so my toe nails also had fake claws.

I was first at the chariot station, black horses surrounding me. I felt ridiculous, standing with a half painted face and orange limbs. The dress was nice, yes, but the body paint had me embarrassed. I wondered what Loki looked like. Suddenly, ahead of me, Martha brushed through the horses and jogged over to me, one hand behind her back. She had an excited grin on her face.

"Fantastic!" she yelled, reaching me. In the hand in view was a kind of hair spray. Behind her came the prep team, beaming with their job, and they also had cans in their hands. "Now, this is washable, so don't worry." She said, and before I knew it, they were spraying my spiky hair a mix of reds, browns and oranges. Once done, I felt my hair, at the spray had hardened the strands. The only part of my hair that was free of the spray was my side fringe, which Martha had positioned to fall over my left eye.

"Every fox needs ears!" exclaimed Lizzie, and sure enough, she had a red headband complete with fury orange, pointy ears. She positioned it on my head. And finally, Martha pulled her hidden arm into my view, holding a mask. It had two slits for my eyes, and had a black circle resembling a nose for the tip of my nose. The cheeks of it were made to look like fur, again orange and red, that would curve under my jaw but spike out at the same time. The strap that would hold it in place on my head was orange, and as Martha placed it on my face, she fluffed my hair over it to hide it. She painted my upper lip orange and shoved some fake fangs onto my teeth, the finishing touch.

"Brilliant!" someone shouted, Cian, as he came striding over confidently. Behind him, I saw Loki. I was taken aback by his transformation. Black hair spiky and scruffy, the lower half of his face painted black with grey tints. He too had pointed ears on his head and well and a black mask, his black somehow smouldering. His costume was a simple t-shirt and trousers, only they were cut up and layered to make black and grey fur, much like my dress only opposite colours. He was also painted black and grey, long claws falling from his forty nails. He was indeed transformed from a boy to a wolf. I couldn't help but grin in amazement, and he did the same.

"The two of you look fantastic!" called Tanya, walking at Loki's side. "Now, on the chariot you get!" we did as we were told, and I only just noticed the tributes surrounding us. To my horror, I was the only twelve year old out of the twenty three tributes. Everyone, boys and girls, looked to be above the ages of fourteen. There was a blonde who looked stunning, even though she was dressed as a tree. District 7. A boy with a face full of scars was huge, and I saw that he was from District 4. Even District 12 looked intimidating, the boy and girl both looking to be eighteen, strong and dangerous. They were dressed, as usual, in a black jumpsuit.

"Right, we had the chariot rearranged. The front in now facing the back. What we want you to do it get on all fours, legs apart, hands apart, head tilted. Smile but don't wave. Look... cunning." Cian was telling us. We positioned ourselves. I had one leg out to the right, laid out straight and stretched under Loki's body. I had the other folded inwards and had my upper body leaning to the left, arms slightly apart. Poised to kill. Loki took on a similar position. "Good."

"This idea was brilliant!" Martha beamed.

"Cheers." Cian said, grinning. "See you two on the other side." He told us, and then we were moving, following the chariot of District 9 and being followed by District 11. Once in the city, I was deafened. I gave a mischievous, fanged grin at the crowd, trying to ignore the ringing in my head. Through my grin, I was terrified, but up at the screens I saw that my nervousness was unnoticeable. I was digging my fake claws into the floor on the chariot, breaking the wood. My name here, my name there, my name everywhere. Cheers, shouts, claps. And then, howling and barking.

"Coco, Coco," they chanted.

"Loki, Loki," they boomed. The wolves howling grew louder, the foxes shrieking grew more prominent. And I knew that we were going to be remember, the fox and the wolf. I saw a screen zoom in on my face, and, for reasons I still don't know, I bared my fangs and hissed. The crowd went nuts, loving it. When the screen cut to Loki, he howled, replying to the audience. This was insane! My head spun. I loved the attention, but I was terrified at the same time. I loved being portrayed as a killer, but I was frightened that I was losing myself. And then, over the shouting and cheering, a voice was introducing us tributes. And already, we had our stage names.

"From District 10, we have Coco, the cunning trickster, and Loki, the savage of the moon!" the voice boomed, but I could barely hear it. My blood was pounding in my ears, the crowds in such huge numbers that my vision blurred. My heart was beating so hard my chest hurt. The music boomed even louder once the commentator finished. We rolled into the Training Centre, the cheers and chants dying at the doors closes. And I knew. I knew that myself and Loki were going to be the stars of the Games. Every Games had a star/stars, tributes to focus on. The kids to bet on. And this year, it was me and Loki. The audience already knew we had a lot to do with one another, knew we were good friends. And now, dressed as two complete opposites ranked up their game. Dressed like this, announced as the 'Trickster' and 'Savage', we were the ones who were going to be bet on. And pit against each other if we lived long enough. We were the pawns in our Games.


	5. Mask Of Who I'm Not

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><p>Cian advised that we went straight to bed after the parade. After all the congratulations and pats on the back by our teams and whatnot, Cian collected Evey, who was waiting for us, and had her lead us to our floor. Yes, each district had their own floor, complete with a bedroom each, a seating quarters and a dining area. And servants, which I later learned were called Avoxs. People who were punished with silence, so therefore had the tongues mutilated from their mouths. Evey told us without a pause, completely at ease with the idea, whereas I wanted to throw up on the hem of her yellow dress. Evey ordered two Avoxs to lead us to our rooms, one boy and one girl. The boy was no older than twenty, and the girl looked barely seventeen.<p>

My Avox, who name was not shared with me, was a medium height with yellow hair pulled back into a messy bun, her face plastered with Capitol makeup. The only part of her that seemed real was her eyes, the orbs the colour of the sky on a sunny, cloudless day. But they weren't sunny, weren't radiant like they once were, but sunken and tired. The girl gave me a tight smile, the gesture seeming to sag her body. We were told not to speak to them unless ordered to, but when Evey had her back turned, I rubbed the girl's arm gently. Her smile turned more genuine for a moment, and she led me to my room. I suppose a normal human would wonder what this girl had done to seal this fate, but all I wanted to do was let her know I was not like the Capitol. That I cared.

My bedroom was huge, complete with a bathroom, dressing table, large wardrobe and a king size bed. The floor was icy under my still bare feet, covered in white, shiny tiles. The walls were coated in black tiles with the odd white here and there. The girl pointed to where the bathroom was and pulled back the covers of my bed, splaying out my nightwear at the bottom of the bed. But before she could turn and leave, I caught her hand, and she flinched at the touch. Her eyes went wide, but only for a moment, and I knew that at one point in her life she had been abused. Smiling as warmly as possible I reeled her towards me, getting to my tip toes to reach her ear.

"What's your name?" I whispered, barely audible. She looked at me for a moment, her baby blue eyes questioning, and then she smiled. Her eyes travelled over my shoulder, looking at a bundle of roses on the bedside table. "Rose?" I murmured, smiling. She nodded. I pointed to my chest, and said my name. She made a quiet sound at the back of her throat, and I think it was the closest thing to a giggle she could manage. She made an eating motion, indicating chocolate and I grinned. She left, suppressing a smile, and closed the door, leaving me to my own devises.

After the parade, Martha had removed my mask but told me to keep it. I carried it up here, and I had forgotten how I was dressed. I turned to a full mirror on the wall at the far end of the room and gasped at what I saw. Myself, only completely animal like. I saw my face on the cameras during the parade, but I could barely register what I saw. But here, in a room filled with nothing but the sound of my breathing, I took in what they had turned me into. I walked over to the mirror and crouched down, in the same position I was in on the chariot. I placed on the mask, tilted my head, and all I could do was stare. A fox, disfigured but very realistic, stared back with deep, smouldering brown eyes. My hair, now a mix of browns, reds and oranges, resembled ruffled fur between the animal's ears. The fur around my face looking like a small mane. The claws that were my nails sharp and dangerous. My fangs sharp enough to draw blood. I was looking into a mirror as a wild animal, not Coco. And the tilt of my head, how Cian had ordered me, made me look exactly like I was described. A cunning trickster.

Getting in the shower was the best thing I had done all night. Even though the water was scolding hot, seeing the paint flow to the drain made my heart feet lighter. The animal that I was going to be in the Games killed off momentarily. I heard myself hiss at the camera in my head, heard the ringing, doggish barks from the crowd. All that gone for a few days. Once I got out of the shower and grabbed a white towel to wrap myself in, I might as well have been a plum in human form. My skin burned, mingling with the hurt my body suffered at the Remake Centre, but at least I was myself. I tore of the black claws and tossed them in the bin under my dresser, and only the mask remained. I had stuffed the dress at the very back of the wardrobe. While I dried and made sure that my hair was free of colouring, I could never tear my eyes away from the slits in the mask. The fox was already beginning to haunt me.

But it was wolves that haunted my dreams. Howling, snarling, jaws snapping at my face. But that didn't last very long. Instead I stood in a forest, the air cool and the night silent. I heard the cry of a fox in the thickets, and then the next thing I knew I was watching a fox being chased by a savage wolf. The image shifted, and the two canines morphed into myself and Loki, Loki chasing me with a blade at hand. I was panting, slowing in my sprint, and he lunged on me. He rolled me over under his weight, and just as his blade came down on a chest, I woke up screaming. The eyes on the mask were there greeting me opposite on the dresser.

Evey knocked on the door two hours after my wake, calling that it was seven o'clock. I practically fell out of bed, my body stiff from being rigid, and dressed in pale trousers, a baby pink shirt and blue cardigan. I slipped on some flats, similar to the ones my mother helped me into. And then my mind sped back to the train trip here, and I realised that my dress was still on there. The only item I had left of home. Just as my heart went into an erratic panic, to my shock I saw the dress over the chair of my dressing table chair. I made sure it was it, and then wondered how it got there. A soft knock at my door and a smile from the Avox girl answered my question, and I mouthed thank you to her. She nodded and led me to the dining room.

Cian and Loki were sat together, eating and talking at the same time. It annoyed me, how calm Loki seemed to be. He even smiled a few times. Had he completely forgotten where he was, what he was being forced to do? And then it occurred to me; Loki was a lot stronger than me, physically and mentally. He had better control over the way he acted, and the night on the train was his first downfall. I hadn't seen a hint of that depression last night at the parade. I guessed he was acting for the audience, much like I was, but the way he was engrossed with Cian had me on edge. Were they discussing tactics without me, plotting to kill me in the arena? Cian may have been a mentor to both of us, but in the end, he would have to choose only one of us to survive. Had he chosen Loki? Upon my entrance, the victor looked up and grinned.

"Good morning, Foxy." He said, waving me over. Loki had stopped smiling, his eyes trained on me as I took a seat opposite them. An Avox, not the one who took care of me, placed a plate of toast and jam in front of me. I dug into it instantly, starved. Juices of the jam flooded my mouth and my stomach groaned for me to swallow it. I obliged. "Fox look not work for you?" Cian said.

"It was a one night only thing." I said, shrugging. "Loki stripped the wolf skin, too."

"The ears ruined my ego." He said, winking. I rolled my eyes and used my fingers to wipe the jam from the plate.

"We watched the tape of the parade this morning," Evey spoke up, sitting beside me. "you both looked stunning. Coco, that hiss was a winner! The crowd loved it! The howling was a hit, too, Loki!" she praised. Yeah, the hiss that was completely foreign to me. The hiss that wasn't me, but the girl who was going to be in the arena.

"You won't be forgotten! People think that the act at the arena was a complete hoax to fool the other tributes." Cian said.

"Does that mean we stand a chance at getting sponsors?" Loki asked. I scowled at my plate. _A chance at _you _getting sponsors, more like. _

"Absolutely." Evey said. "Being able to put the audience into a false sense of judgement is a strong point, and it benefits Coco greatly."

"Because I hissed at a camera?" I said bitterly.

"No, because you showed that you aren't weak. They love a fighter." She answered, ignoring my tone.

"Why so bitter, Foxy?" Cian asked.

"Don't call me that!" I snapped. His face was hard, but his eyes laughed at me.

"It stays. Now answer the question."

"I'm bitter because I don't want to be someone I'm not." I growled. He merely smiled.

"No one is making you do anything. You're doing it all by yourself. Keep it up, it's the different between life and death." No, it wasn't me who had control of my emotions, it was the Capitol. For doing this to me, for pitting me against Loki, for giving me a deceiving name. For tearing my life apart. I remained silent for the rest of the hour we had at the table. They kept rattling on about last night, which infuriated me. I wanted to forget. I wanted to strip the memory away. I wanted a memory of home, not a memory of the Capitol. All the while, Loki stayed quiet, too, his eyes always locked on me.

Today we would begin training. The exercises that made us strong and prepared for what lied ahead. We were instructed to stay away from one another and try out different stations. We were even advised to try and make a few allies. Fat chance. I was going at it alone. After all, foxes hunted alone. Loki was the one who needed the allies, the pack. Cian didn't argue with me, only smiled at my arrogance. I pictured that he was enjoying an image of how I would die. It was clear he had his eye on Loki, and that I was going at the arena alone. Fine. But I would listen to any other tactics he had to offer, just not the ally one. Creating allies would be what killed me. At least Loki would stand a chance. I was jealous of him, I soon realized, jealous that he had a better chance of surviving. It annoyed me because he would get sponsors for his looks as well as his confidence. But I loved Loki, and I knew my jealousy was the Capitol's fault. What a surprise. As Evey led us to the gym, Loki gave my hand a squeeze before we went our separate ways. I had only a matter of days left of his love, and I no pain in the world could hurt as much as that knowledge. But it must have been nothing compared to the pain my family was feeling, what Myth was feeling. Again, all the Capitol's fault, never Loki's. From then on, I refused to be hostile towards him, even one our feet left our stands to flee to the Cornucopia. I vowed it.

The first day of training went by in a blur. There were many stages, from learning how to climb, jump obstacles, hide in thickets with camouflage and from using weapons themselves. Bow and arrows, spears, daggers, axes, swords and so many more. I should have felt threatened, but with the act of violence before the Games being forbidden, I knew that for now I had nothing to worry about. I stayed clear from the weapons for a while, exercising by learning how to clime and hide in thick undergrowth. Let one of the many instructors pain my face a different mix of greens and guide me on his to mimic them. In the arena, I should chew up grasses and then paint the mush on my face. Gross, but if it meant I could survive for a while, so be it. He also helped me identify the different kinds of plants, from safe, healing leaves to poisonous berries. I memorized them in two hours. I avoided looking at the older children, especially the Careers. The kids from the higher ranking districts were the better trained ones, so therefore, more likely the threats. I learned that from watching them on television. I would practice with the weapons tomorrow, because today was the matter of learning how to blend in. I knew what my first tactic would be.

Run, try and get some supplies, and then get the hell out of there.


	6. The Tributes

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><p>At dinner in our first day of training, I sat hesitantly with Loki. He smiled at me with tight lips, and his eyes darted around the canteen. Our fellow twenty two tributes came in with casual chitchat, but that was mainly coming from the pack of Careers. I watched them as I took my seat, placing my tray full of food flat on the table in silence. I made a note of them, from their gender, build and voices. There was the boy from District 4, heavily scared from past brawls in his district. His voice was deep and gravelly. Easy to pick out. His fellow tribute was a girl with light brown hair, and she looked lean and strong, with legs long and enabling her speed. Her voice was a feather weight, angelic. From district 2 were a boy and a girl who looked to be about sixteen, both with slicing stares. Both were blonde and not particularly good looking and I took note of their light hair tones. District 1 contained a boy who must have been eighteen and a girl who just scraped fifteen. They were tall, well built, and they were the most intimidating. The girl would look at me and sneer, and then mimic the shriek of a fox to the others. I immediately hated her.<p>

"Spotted the Careers, then?" Loki murmured softly, taking his seat and putting his lips to my ear. I nodded stiffly.

"Not my kind of crowd." I muttered, taking a bite of the apple I picked up. I had no apatite in this room full of trained killers.

"Nor mine, I intend to stay clear from them." Loki told me.

"If we last long enough." I answered. To our surprise, one of the unoccupied chairs pulled back from the table. We looked up, and were met by two boys, one from District 5 and the other from District 8. Both had dark hair and grey eyes and must have been fourteen. 8 was taller than 5, but only by a few inches, however the both towered over me. I gulped down a chunk of apple without chewing it, and it scraped my throat on the way down. I noticed Loki glance at me.

"Can we sit here?" 5 asked. Not missing a beat, Loki nodded and smiled. So he was going with the ally tactic. The boys muttered thanks, and told us their names. The boy from 5 was called Dominic Thresher, and the boy from 8 was called Stanley Hays.

"You two looked amazing at the parade." Dominic said, his eyes training on mine. I watched him carefully, his misty eyes full of nothing but curiosity. I felt somehow sized up, the way his eyes bore into mine putting me on edge. He posed no threat in anyway, but I couldn't shake the feeling that he'll be trying to kill me next week. As if sensing my unease, he lowered his eyes to the tray he had in front of him, not touching his food.

"Thanks," Loki said. "but we prefer our human selves."

"You looked real intimidating." Stanley said, smiling sheepishly at Loki. "The howling was good, though."

"Foxy here was nice too, with the snarl and all." Dominic said. I met his eyes again.

"Why is everyone insisting on calling me Foxy?" I asked, annoyed. Everyone being Cian and Dominic, but whatever, it was irritating.

"Everyone is calling you that." Stanley told me. "From the Careers to the entire Capitol population." Loki was grinning at me, and I felt my cheeks burn as the blood rushed to the surface.

"Does Loki get called 'Wolfy'?" I demanded. The two shook their heads, chuckling quietly. Brilliant. So apparently, I was no longer called Coco, but Foxy instead. Perfect.

"You prefer Coco?" Dominic asked, smiling. Unable to help it, I offered him a smile in return. "Coco it is then."

"Thanks." I said, and the four of us ate in comfortable silence. I pondered over the current situation. Two boys, both from different districts, had picked us out to sit with. Had they been watching us, watching Loki work expertly with an axe and me memorizing the plants? Were we their safety zone? Allies? Or were they using the tactic of befriending us, only to stab us in the backs? It was difficult, sitting here with them and acting like it was a socializing trip, when in the end, we would more than likely have to turn on one another at some point. But the way Dominic stared me in the eyes, searched them in and out, made me think he was more afraid of me than I was of him. Like he was searching for something to determine whether to befriend us or not. There was nothing threatening in his gaze, at least, none that I could see. A part of me wished there was, wished there was something to be aware of so I had an excuse to ignore him. But he was all... innocence, and it was painful. All I could do was hope that when we entered the arena, I could get away and hide so fast that he wouldn't have chance to follow. Abandoning him and everyone else. In my mind, I was taking this on alone.

The girl from District 1 came over all of a sudden, grinning at us with a mouthful of meaty chunks. Her black hair was tied back in a bun, and she was relatively good looking. But her twisted features of a sneer made her look ugly.

"I'd stay clear from Foxy, boys, she could trick you into killing yourselves." She cackled, swallowing down the chunks and licking her lips. I shot daggers at her, and she grinned some more. I heard the other Careers laughing at my expression, and the made sounds of foxes in distress, mocking me.

"Take a hike." Loki spat. She turned to him and merely smiled.

"Sit with us, you'd have a better chance of surviving with us in the arena." She said, skulking closer to him, to me. I had my eyes pinned on her, watching how she moved. She trod silently with certain stealth, her arms slightly parted from her sides. She was too confident, too sneaky.

"Get lost." I snapped unthinkingly. Her eyes, two pools of ice, bore into mine and her hands clenched into fists. Around us, I noticed people watching, guards stiffening as they readied themselves to break up a scrap. I remained seated, eyeing the girl down, refusing to back down from her threatening pose.

"I'd watch your mouth, Fox." She sneered.

"Afraid I'll trick you into killing yourself?" I countered, cocking my head. Her jaw moved, and I heard the gathering of saliva in the back of her throat. That proved how silent the room had fallen.

"That's enough." One of the guards warned, his voice low and challenging. The girl gave me a look, and her eyes told me everything. _You die first. _And, for some reason, I grinned at her departure which seemed to anger her more. She sat with the Careers, shoving the tray away in anger. Slowly, chatter picked back up and I felt the knots in my muscles loosen.

"Nice." Dominic said.

"I'd watch your back, kiddo." Loki cautioned, watching me carefully. I looked up at him and merely smiled.

"She can't hurt me here." I said.

"But in the arena, you'll be the goal of a hunting party." Stanley said, and he actually sounded worried. "They'll be the pack of dogs."

"Then I run like hell." I said. I couldn't understand why I was so calm about it, but it gave me a sense of security. Being about to stand up to a Career flooded my heart with confidence, but I also knew that I had now gained an enemy. So that meant I would have to at least take notice of the weapons in the second half of training. And that's exactly what I did.

Once we returned, I took cover learning how to make a fire, just about hearing the tutor rambling about how to set the sticks right and actually lighting the flame. While she spoke, I watched the tributes experiment with the weapons. Loki was practicing with a spear, throwing it at dummies with a strong arm. The best he could do was throw it ten meters and pierce the gut. He gave up quickly. A girl from District 3 was very handy with a dagger, able to use two at a time while training with a tutor. She was fluent and within seconds, she had her tutor at her mercy, both blades at his throat. Dominic was very good at snares, able to set a trap in the ground by making a whole, covering it was long, thin braches and leaves. If heavy feet were trampling on it, they would get trapped in a ditch. He could also set a snare, the end result being with the victim hanging by their ankle. I learnt many things just by observing, watching movements and impacts, and I would try them out the next day.

While I set my third fire successfully, Dominic came over and observed. He sat on my right, his legs crossed and mimicking me. I gave him a side glance and smiled. His eyes watched as I rubbed two rocks together, sparks falling to the twigs. I complimented my work and made one himself, with a little help from me. the tutor beamed at us.

"I heard that District 1 girl talking. She called Star, but the way, and she has you in her sights." He told me suddenly, his voice hushed. I looked up, and unsurprisingly, Star had her eyes on me with a grimace in place. She didn't back down from my gaze, so I rolled my eyes I turned back to Dominic, grinning as if we were in a completely different conversation.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked him. Catching my drift, he laughed, leaning back on his hands.

"Because one, I don't like her, and two, I like you." He said simply.

"Why?"

"Well, it takes a lot for a girl as young as you to face a problem as big as this head on. I admire your courage." He told me. I laughed, blowing on the fire. I saw Star turn away in a huff from the corner of my eye, and stopped the act.

"Did you not see my Reaping?" I said, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Yes, and I haven't seen you share a frightened look since." He answered. He leaned forward and blew on the flames, making them grow. "Maybe we could be allies in the arena." He added, looking up at me through his lashes, raising a brow.

"I'm not exactly strong." I said.

"No, but you're intelligent. You haven't run to the weapons straight away, for a start."

"Survival isn't all about being able to handle an axe or sword." I said. "It's logic."

"Exactly, and the Careers, even though they know how to use weapons, keep practicing with them. They'll have no idea on how to light a fire and what plants are safe and so on." So he had been watching me.

"Which will make me weak in a fight." I murmured.

"Who needs to fight when you can run?" he told me. "Besides, I can be the fighter, and you can be the one who keeps us alive when not fighting." The idea sounded appealing, but the thought of having to turn on one another knotted my gut. Really, I actually like Dominic. There was nothing suspicious about him. I thought he generally wanted us to work together. "Unless you're sticking with Loki." He said when I didn't answer. I looked up towards Loki, now learning how to tie a noose. I swallowed, contemplating. No, I didn't want to go with Loki. I didn't want us to have the final standoff.

"If you can fine me in the arena," I said.

"Then we'll be the duo of the Games." He finished. With that, he smiled, laughed as if I said something funny as an act, and left to attack the weapons.


	7. Moonlight Hunter

**Read and review!**

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><p>When dinner came around, where we were joined also by Tanya and Martha, Cian asked us how we got on. Loki explained how he mastered how to use many of the weapons and how to tie a noose, which surprise, surprise, Cian praised him for greatly. Loki didn't seem fazed, although he did take on a smug look. When Cian saw me roll my eyes dismissively, he demanded what I did.<p>

"Research." I said simply.

"Care to elaborate?" he pressed, a crease forming in his brow. Martha, Tanya and Evey all watched me, surveying me, and I felt put on the spot. Did they really think so low of me, that I couldn't do anything useful? Way to make me feel self assured. I simply shrugged towards them all and told them about memorizing plant types, camouflaging and making fires. To my surprise, Cian looked satisfied.

"Thinking outside the box, I like it." he said. "Now, how about the ally suggestion?" I thought of my conversation with Dominic, how he wanted to team up. I still hoped I would lose him once in the arena, just to save the job of getting to friendly with the enemy. He had gone off to work with a sword, but our eyes met continuously throughout the two hours we had remaining. Stanley had accompanied him again, and I noticed his eyes travel in my direction when he was spoken to. Had he been dragged into our agreement, or were they teaming up against me? it was hard to determine, as both seemed to have good motives, but Stanley never approached me during training.

"I don't know about allies, but an enemy seems like a good word." Loki said, referring to Star, of course. All eyes instantly fell on me, much to my annoyance.

"What?" I snapped darkly through a mouth full of chocolate cake.

"Who, Foxy?" Cian said, eying me with an annoyance of his own. Oh, what did he care if I gained an enemy or not? He'd probably enjoy watching me being hunted.

"A Career, the girl from District 1." Loki said before I could, and I shot him a cold look. _Thanks, thanks a lot._

"Why would you go and do that?" Evey burst out, horrified.

"She was mocking us!" I retorted, my voice rising in a defensive manner.

"Then you ignore it! Not label yourself as their first victim!" Martha said harshly.

"What do you lot care anyway?" I burst, rising to my feet and slamming my palms on the table. All went silent for a moment, all eyes on my face and murderous eyes. Loki went to reach for my arm, but thought better of it. Evey pushed a piece of apple crumble down her throat loudly. Martha cleared her throat with a cough but said nothing. Tanya ran a hand through her hair nervously. Cian only watched me, calculating me, trying to figure me out. Finally, the silence broke.

"Getting a bit hostile, aren't we, Foxy?" he said, his voice guarded.

"I wonder why." I snarled back. I was suffocating with the pressure of these events, drowning with the low expectations. The looks of doubt, the appalled responses, the pointless comments of reason. They all knew what was going to happen to me, and seemed content on reminding me with every chance they got. Even Loki saw me as weak and unable to contain myself. It was like he saw that every action I portrayed, the more trouble I was going to be in. Loki, my sister's boyfriend, my family, had his own doubts about my fate. He didn't have to say it; the looks of worries told me enough. And that thought made me feel like I was being choked. They named me for the games, transformed me into a pawn, and now they were regretting it, because I wasn't going to put on a show.

"Please sit down, we can help sort this out. Give you advice. We're here to help you." Martha said gently, gesturing to my seat with her hand.

"None of you care about what happens to me!" I shouted. "You think lowly enough of me as it is!"

"You keeping blocking us." Tanya said.

"I did what you told me to at the parade, I'm learning about the best ways to survive! What more do you want from me?"

"Control." Cian answered, his eyes locking onto mine.

"You people are throwing us into an arena of death. I'm surprised I haven't had a mental breakdown yet!" and with that, hearing the gasps of shock, I stormed away and ran into the hallway, pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, feel the heat of my blood as my anger tried to break me. I found myself pacing by running, tiring myself out, but helping to drain away the anger. No one came for me, and I wasn't surprised. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Up and down, up and down, up and down.

Finally, after what must have been half an hour of pacing/sprinting, I collapsed at the doors of the floor's elevator. I hugged my legs to my chest and hid my face in my knees, trembling. Pain, horrendous pain. My chest felt like it weighed a tonne, the back of my throat seemed to be swelling. The Games crushed me, the expectations broke me. These people of the Capitol were going to watch me thrive here, and then, once the bloodshed begins, see me break into a million little pieces. The emotional wreck. The weakling. The first kill. Or maybe they'd have the pleasure of seeing a chase scene, involving me and Star, or better yet, Loki. That's what they wanted, the fox and the wolf to battle it out. To see who came out triumphant, and see who would be the blood mess in the dirt. If only Dominic could see me now.

I had told Martha that a wolf had attacked our cattle back home on my first day here in the Capitol. I hadn't said much about it, but it was brought up. I failed to mention that I had seen the attack. It happened the previous year, and I watched it by accident. Ash and Myth were in the middle of a heated argument, yelling and screaming for reasons I could no longer remember. Mother started yelling at them to be quite, and amongst the noise, I fled to escape it. I hated noise, it always gave me a headache. So I ran from the house and into the district, towards the horse stables.

The animals of our district were to the North, close to the fence that trapped us there. Knowing that animals couldn't scream and yell, they were the company I longed for when family life got to be too much. There was one horse, Scarlet, who I was very fond of. She was a beautiful creature, her fur a chestnut colour and she had a single white stripe on her face, along with two white socks on her front legs. I had seen her birth take place three years earlier, and the owner let me ride her once she got strong enough and let me name her. So the night of the argument, I snuck into her stable and petted her, wrapping my arms around her strong neck. She'd sensed my distress and rubbed her hooves against the hay on the ground, nuzzling her nose into the crook of my neck.

I'd stayed in her company for hours, embracing her and grooming her. The moon was high up in the sky, putting the district under the influence of a silver gloom. I had been scraping dirt from Scarlet's hoof, and that was when I heard the digging of dirt and rocks. Curious, I had gone over to the door of the stable and opened the door an inch or so, peeking through and locating the sound. That was when I saw the glowing yellow eyes, pinned of the sheep that were fenced in a small yard and snoozing on the grass. The eyes were huge, mesmerizing, but the sound of it panting put me on edge. The horses got restless, including Scarlet who was nudging me with her nose, insisting I moved away. I ignored her and watched the wolf dig under the fence.

The animal was starved, that was easy to see. From what I could tell, it had fur that was black as night, the moon helping to indicate its location. Its ears twitched back and forth, its nose sniffing madly. It was starved to the point of madness. Alone meant it would have struggled to bring down a kill in the wild, so it had no choice but to risk making a kill here. It whined in frustration, poking its snout and head under the fence, snarling at the sheep. Even in the low light, its teeth were easy to see. Massive fangs, white against black lips. I noticed its tail sway in anger. I was aware of the fact that the fence was off, which was a bad peace of luck for the farmer.

The wolf kept digging, and finally, wriggled under the fence. The second fence was nothing. It ran and leapt over it, snarls ripping from its throat at it went to attack the sheep. I saw it all. The panic of the sheep, who scattered around the tiny space. Once sheep, the smallest and weakest, wailed with terror. The wolf lunged for it, its jaws breaking the poor things neck. And the wolf didn't stop there. Through the panicked herd, I saw it tear the sheep to shreds, its white coat stained with red, its limbs flimsy as the wolf tore out its intestines. The other sheep wailed louder, huddling in a corner furthest away from the animal. The horse were also crying, some rising to the hind legs in a panic of their own. Scarlet simply made a cry of warning. The wolf continued to mutilate the sheep. Flesh tearing, bones crunching, the jaws chewing. And then, as if to end the show, the wolf howled with joy. And that's when the shot came.

I'd ran for home as soon as the shot came, and by morning, all that remained was the blood and fur of the sheep. The tearing of flesh had haunted my dreams for months, the wails of the fellow animals deafening in my head when a room was silent. And that's what I related myself to now. I wasn't a fox, but a sheep, and the other tributes were the wolves. Even the Capitol. I would be targeted and torn to shreds in the arena, and no matter how much I would shout, no one would come to my aid.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Loki had me cradled in his arms as he carried me to my room. He handed me over to Rose, who carefully undressed me and redressed me in my nightwear. She shushed me, and for a moment I was confused, and then a realized I was crying. She wiped the tears away and led me to my bed, tucking me in and then switching off the light. The door slid shut, and when sleep took me over, blood spattered behind my eyelids.

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><p>The next few days went by in a complete blur. It was a robotic routine. Get up, have breakfast, go to training, have lunch, back to training, go to dinner, have an overview and then go to bed. In training I mastered how to throw a knife over long distances, fight in physical combat and perfect my camouflage. I revised my knowledge of the plants and berries, herbs and spices, and possibly some nature elements that may be good for healing. Dominic would come and chat with me, give me updates on the Careers. He was like a spy for me when it came to Star, who never really bothered me again. A sneer here, a comment there, nothing major to get my nerves hyped. Stanley also gave me tips on how to climb effectively, although it consisted more of him hoisting me up the provided beams. The Gamemakers didn't like the interaction, but because were weren't actually fighting, there was nothing they could do to stop us.<p>

Loki also joined me while I read, asking for the names of plants and helping to test me. he observed my knife skill and was very impressed.

"Almost as good as me with an axe." He'd said with a wink. I simply rolled my eyes. Cian was more observant of me after my outburst. He came to the gym and watched as me and Loki worked, but didn't interact. That was against the rules. We had to work with either ourselves or the tutors. But from the smiles I got when he saw me throw a knife and teach Loki about the plants, I felt a little more confident. He was extra pleased about my interactions with Stanley and Dominic, but kept the information between me and him. The two boys had made sure to approach me away from Loki's eye, knowing I didn't want him to think I was warming to the idea of allies. It was clear that these two were fascinated with me, and tried to help me in training as much as they were allowed.

Tomorrow would be the time to show the Gamemakers what we could do, where each tribute got a score for their skills. This was crucial, because once the audience knew what how strong we were, they would decided on who to sponsor. What followed was the interview, and then it was time for the Games. Everything was flashing by so quickly, only the term 'time flies when you're having fun' didn't imply. It was a terrifying revelation.

Cian told us that tomorrow was our last day to train, so perfect whatever we had learned. Use up what time we had left and don't waste it. We both nodded stiffly, absorbing whatever advice he could give us. We had a matter of days left, and we needed to use them wisely. He then grabbed the front of our training shirts and yanked us towards him, putting his face in ours to capture our attention.

"Show them everything you've got. I don't want to sit there watching you in the arena and receiving no gifts from sponsors to send to you." He said.

"You actually care?" I muttered, but he smiled more so than glared, and drew me in a little closer.

"I just don't want to look like a joke." He told me. Right. He didn't want us to get awfully low scores and make him look bad. Comforting.

"So you really don't care if I live or die?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Loki kicked my foot, and Cian released our shirts. He smiled at us, and then looked directly at me.

"It's not about what I think." He said. "If you really want to live, then you'll fight and do the best you can. Get a high score, throw a great interview, and give the audience something worth watching. Pull that off, you may have a chance of winning." Even though he was meant to be speaking with both of us, I couldn't help but think he was speaking more so to me. He sent us to bed, and Loki grasped my hand.

"Do me a favour?" he asked and I nodded, meeting his eyes. "Give the Gamemakers something to enjoy. If I want anyone to get the best score, I want it to be you." And with that, he went to his room and closed to door, leaving me staring at where he had just stood.


	8. The Session And Preparation

**It's a long one :P Enjoy**

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><p>The time had come to show our skills to the Gamemakers. The time where we would most likely seal our fates in the Games. This was where we could select our first victims, the weak, and take note on the ones to steer clear from. The audience would already be betting on who gets the highest score. The scores ranged from 1-12, and the highest ones tended to be 9-10. I saw myself getting a low five or a respectable seven. Who knew? Cian had told us to show off everything we had, and we had only fifteen minutes to do it. I had already cooked up a plan. I would smear my face effortlessly with green paint, from light shades to dark, and then throw a dagger at shooting range. Maybe, if I had time, I could speak out what plants were safe and what weren't. Simple, nothing huge, but enough to help me survive. That was all I needed.<p>

While we finished up for lunch, we awaited our private sessions. The sessions went in the order of our Districts , so we were going to be the last few to go in. I was just grateful that we weren't last. Third to last was better than last. Since I had arrived here, apples seemed to have been my point of cravings. Maybe it was because they took a long time to eat or because they were so juicy, but at this point, I was glad I had one in my hand. I nibbled at it as I watched the tributes leave confidently for their sessions, the Careers smirking at one another when their individual names were called. Star, the second one to be called, snickered as she stalked past me, but I was more interested in the red apple that my teeth were wedged in. Loki was sitting beside me, playing oddly with his bowl of soup. What was he so nervous about? He was amazing with axes.

"What's up with you?" I asked. He black orbs met mine, and he smiled sheepishly.

"Last minute nerves." He told me.

"Let's swap places, because it's me who should be nervous." I said. He rolled his eyes and continued to play with his food. He never said anything more on wanting me to get the best score, but the words riddled in my mind. _If I want anyone to get the best score, I want it to be you. _The words planted themselves on my heart and mind, making it impossible to escape. But I forcefully shoved the memory aside, as I had bigger things to focus on. I saw Dominic rise to his feet once his name was called, and as he left, his gaze caught mine. I wondered how he would impress them, but that thought didn't last long, either. Fifteen minutes later, the girl from his district was called. She was small, about the same height as me, but in knew she was older. Older than Dominic. Her size, however, made her look deceiving. All I registered of her was her small form and blonde hair that flowed to her waist.

More and more tributes were called, and soon it was Loki's turn. He stood and ruffled my hair, asking me to wish him luck. I waved the request away with my hand and scoffed, earning a chuckle from the back of his throat. He disappeared through the doors to the gym. I was left with the members from Eleven and Twelve, all of who ignored me. All I could do was hack away at my apple.

"Coco Blossom." Called a woman, and I through the apple in the bin that was about three metre away from me. I skulked past the aging woman and entered the gym. I looked around, hearing the Gamemakers but purposely ignoring them. I needed to block them out, just so I could concentrate. I followed through with my plan and painted my face in different shades of green, tinge it with yellow here and there. I was aware of the Gamemakers watching me closely, calculating me, as I ducked in a bed of fake long grass they had provided. Some seemed surprised, and I knew that the disguise worked. I then quickly retrieved a dagger, which was the size of a large kitchen knife, and retook my position in the grass. I crouched low, devoured in the strands that stood over two meters tall. I peeked through, locked my eyes on a standing dummy about ten meters away, and threw the blade through the grass. It landed wedged in the triangle of its face. Someone clapped in response.

Improvising from my original plan, I ran to a beam and climbed high, already having a second dagger in my grasp. Once on a higher beam that resembled a branch, I threw the dagger across the gym, and it landed neatly in one of the archery targets. I surprised even myself, nearly losing my balance in my shock. Actually, I _did _lose my balance, only just catching the beam I had fallen from and swinging back on. The Gamemakers seemed to think this was another skill, and I noted that some of them were writing down notes. Gingerly, I climbed down the bean, jumping the last few feet and landing on all fours. I looked up and met each of their faces, and the my eyes travelled to the daggers, who were in their rightful places in the targets.

"You may be dismissed, Miss Blossom." Said one of them, a young looking man with hair cut short. I nodded and left, making a trip to the bathroom to clean my face. When I came out, slightly hyped, Evey was there to greet me. She was smiling, and to my relief, her eyes held no sign of doubt.

"How'd it go?" she asked, touching my back and guiding me to the lift. Loki must already be on our floor.

"I think it went okay." I answered, telling the truth. She grinned and smudged away some paint from my temple with her thumb, a spot I must have missed. When we reach our floor, Cian was waiting on the other side of the door, tapping his foot with his arms crossed.

"She said she thinks it went okay." Said Evey before I could. Cian raised an eyebrow at me, asking to hear it from me. I gave a single nod, and his mouth cracked into a grin.

"Explain." He ordered, grabbing a portion of my t-shirt in his fist and dragging me into the living room. I told him exactly what I did, demonstrating my camouflage skills, throwing skills and climbing, and apparently, swinging. I also told him about the Gamemakers reaction, and he nodded happily.

"That's good. I bet you'll get a respectable eight." He told me, and I wasn't going to complain about his prediction. It was a pretty good score should I get it.

"Where's Loki?" I asked.

"He's gone for a shower." He answered simply.

"What did he do?" I said, cocking my head inquiringly.

"Threw an axe and nothing more. A little disappointing. But he got some good aims, so he tells me." disappointed? Well, that was news. Before I could question why it was disappointing, he ushered me off to take a shower of my own. Rose was already in my room, setting out my clothes for once I was done. I smiled a thank you, she touched my cheek and then she closed the door.

The warm water was soothing on my skin, and I had mastered over the last few days how to not burn myself to a pulp. I put my face in the raining water, closing my eyes and smiling. I brushed back my short hair, washing it with strawberry scented shampoo. I washed myself in lemon scented gel, the gel smoothing my skin with the slightest touch. I scrubbed away any paint I had missed from my face and rubbed the water from my eyes. Reluctantly I retreated from the water, which stopped falling once my presence was no more. I found a clean white towel waiting for me and wrapped myself in it, grabbing a smaller one to towel dry my hair.

Rose had a white, frilly skirt waiting for me, along with a simple button down red shirt. The skirt barely reached my knees, but it felt good to have air reaching my legs after days of them being covered up with the training outfit. I ruffled my damp hair and shook my head before I left the room, pleasantly refreshed. Sitting around the large television screen were Loki, Martha, Tanya, Cian and Martha, and I sat between Martha and Tanya. A Capitol broadcast was about to begin, where our scores would be shown. I suddenly found myself anxious, awaiting my score.

The Careers naturally got scores of 9-10s, which shook me a little. But, of course, I wouldn't be fighting them in any hurry. The others ranged from 3-7s. Dominic got a score of seven, whereas Stanley got an impressive eight. I was actually happy for them, as odd as that sounds. But when me and Loki were announced, we got an unexpected shock. We both got ten... Ten! Before I could absorb it, Evey was clapping and the two stylists were laughing happily. Cian was watching us, and I could see a certain pride in his eyes and smile.

"How did I get a ten? All I did was throw an axe!" Loki said, forcing back a grin.

"Hello! I painted my face!" I retorted. _And got two bulls-eyes from long distances. _I said silently, but I didn't think that that was worth a ten.

"Be careful though, you two. If the Careers are as nasty this year as any other year, they'll be having you as targets." Cian cautioned over the clapping and laughing, and the clanging of wine glasses. No one else heard but us. We nodded, understanding, but at least we had a shot at getting sponsors! But we didn't have time to celebrate, as Cian ordered us to quickly eat dinner and then go to bed, as we had a long day the next day. Loki, however, caught my wrist before we went our separate ways, bringing me into a hug. Without hesitation, I clung onto him, relishing the first loving gesture I had had since the train ride here.

"I'm proud of you, kiddo." He said into my hair. I closed my eyes, as I realised what our scores put us in. But no, I wouldn't be with Loki in the arena, I would be with Dominic and Stanley. Loki would be safe from at least us three. I refused to be the one to bring him to his death, and I would certainly forbid the two boys from doing that also. But for now, all I could do was relish the minty scent he possessed.

"Goodnight, Loki." I said quietly. He kissed my hair, touched me cheek, and turned to leave.

"Goodnight, Coco." And his door clipped closed. I fell out of my clothes once in my room and clambered into bed, pulling the covers over my face. And, for the first time since I had been here, I fell into a dreamless slumber.

The next day consisted of being woken by Evey banging on the door, rousing us at six in the morning. When I didn't get up, however, she had ordered Rose to get me up and about. The girl made a sound at the back of her throat, laughing, when I groaned loudly as she pulled back my sheets. I curled into a ball, soaking in my own body heat and clenching my eyes closed. She poked me in my stomach, earning a groan, then poked my waist, earning another moan, and then quickly ticking my stomach and earning a giggle. She lay out my clothes for the day and left with an amused smile.

I met with Cian and Loki at breakfast, who were eating and talking about the day's events. They informed me that Cian and Evey were going to coach us on manners and posture for the night's interview. Each session would last four hours, much to our distaste, but we didn't argue. Cian worked with me first and instructed me on how to speak when in the interview.

"I want you to be in character when you sit down." He told me. "Play innocent but have an edge. For instance, if he questions about the Reaping, don't say a word, just look at him and keep a straight face." He was talking about Caesar Flickerman, the host of the Hunger Games. He was actually quite an amusing character when he wanted to be, and was often a great help to some of the terrified tributes who came his way in the past. He was a typical Capitol member, loving bright colours and making his face look absurdly fake. However he had a thing for a sparkly jacket he wore every year.

"So basically, be myself?" I asked.

"Exactly." Cian answered. That was easy then, but if the topic of my family did come up, I knew I'd have to battle against my emotions. But I thought that if Cian believed in me, then maybe I should. For the hours we had, we went over different possible questions and topics and how I should respond to them. Cian was very happy with my performance, and actually ended the session an hour earlier, giving me an hour to kill. All I did in that hour was sitting around eating apples. Great fun. I must have gotten through five of them, two red, two green and one a mix of red and green. I was about to go for a sixth when Evey called me.

The hours I had with her were slightly more difficult as she dressed me up in ridiculous dresses that were either too short or too long. She made me learn how to walk elegantly with my shoulders back and my head held high, how to sit with my back straight, and how to control my emotions.

"If an awkward topic comes up, think of something that makes you happy when you don't answer." She said, and in all fairness, that was a good idea. Although I had to endure the full four hours with her, they went by in a blur and she was pleased with the end result. By the end, I had three more hours till the interview, and just as I was about to take a sit down, my prep team attacked me. Lizzie, Pearl and Flow came in loudly, grabbed my arms, and practically carried me to my room and shoved me in the shower.

"Come on, three hours is all we have to transform you!" Lizzie cried, rushing me in the shower. I quickly washed my hair and skin, and then Pearl pulled me out with dried me with a towel, Flow ruffling my hair.

"Isn't three hours plenty of time?" I asked, staring at them as they plonked me down in the dressing table chair. They were quick to start blow dry my hair, sending it into a frenzy because of its short strands.

"Absolutely not!" called Pearl over the noise, brushing her hands through my hair.

"We need the whole fox look again!" Lizzie chimed.

"Again? Won't the audience get bored?" I asked.

"Let's rephrase, we need the fox _theme _again!" Flow explained. Ah. Okay. So for the next two and a half hours, they worked on my face, body and hair, only they didn't paint me in ridiculous colours. Instead, they used makeup to grab the effect. They coated my eyes in dark eyeliner, making my brown orbs look bolder. They used orange and red eye shadow that made my eyes look more intense. They coated my lips in blood red gloss, brushed on some skin tone along my cheekbones and sprinkled some golden glitter around my eyes and cheeks. They didn't coat my hair in orange and red spray this time, but collected a few strands and sprayed them red, before adding some hair glitter. They ruffled it up, giving a spiky effect again. Flow did the makeup and Lizzie did the hair, and all the while Pearl was busy filing, painting and sharpening my nails into black claws. Just as they finished with my face, Martha glided into the room, and red and white dress with orange flecks over her arm.

"Wonderful, ladies, absolutely wonderful." She said smoothly, coming over to inspect my face and hair. She tapping her finger along the tips of my nails. "Nice and sharp, excellent." She said under her breath, a miraculous smile curving her lips.

"Is that my dress?" I asked, eyeing the furry looking thing over her shoulder.

"Yes! Fresh from the designer quarters!" she said. She stood me up and removed my towel, putting my whole body on show. But she briskly put the dress on over my head, Pearl zipping it at the back. The dress hugged my body, the skirt reaching just above my legs. It was strapless like the first, the it had white hems around the top and skirt. It was soft to the touch, and I couldn't help but spread my fingers through the fur. While I felt the fabric, Martha sprinkled more gold glitter along my chest, shoulders and neck, and all the way down my arms and legs. She help me slip into a pair of red flats, and then the four women stood back to admire their work.

"Stunning." Said Flow.

"So elegant." Added Lizzie.

"With a dangerous edge." Finished Pearl. Without thinking, my eyes landed on the fox mask that still lived on the dressing table, the black slits still facing the bed.

"You won't be having the mask and ears this time around." Martha said. I met her gaze, and she was smiling softly. She gestured to the mirror, and I stepped in front on it. She was right, I didn't need the mask and ears. The dress, hair and makeup was all I needed to resemble the scavenger, and I had never looked more dangerous in my entire life, but still kept the gracefulness of my true nature. My eyes looked penetrating, my lips looked thirsty for blood, my muscles looked tense under the glitter. Martha came behind me and brushed my fringe over my left eye, toned brown and orange, and it finished the look of cunningness.

"I think we're ready." Martha said, watching me in the mirror. I gave a stiff nod. All I could think was this; I was fox, I was no longer Coco. And with that thought, my heart tore apart in my chest. And this time tomorrow, if I didn't play my part, I would be in a box getting shipped back home. Stone cold, bloody red, unseeing. Good as dead.


	9. The Last Night

**Enjoy... :D**

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><p>I had never really been afraid of crowds. Not the noise, not the sight, not even the atmosphere. Actually, I felt safe when mingled within a huge crowd. It made me feel invisible, so that way, no one could ever hurt me. If there was ever a point in my life where I was frightened and wanted to hide, I ran into a mob of people. So, as I waited for my interview, I was relatively calm. Loki tapped his foot a lot beside me, but he was calmer than what he was when about to have his session with the Gamemakers.<p>

We were sitting backstage, waiting for our announcement. Caesar had just opened up the show, joking around with the crowd and rambling on about us tributes. This year, he looked like a clown. He had his hair dyed to a shade of yellow that was brighter than the sun, and wore purple lipstick against a white face. Positively terrifying, but the citizens of the Capitol loved it apparently. In order to push out the frightening looking host, I took in the appearance of my fellow tributes once again.

Loki was dressed in a black suit with a white tie and white gloves, so he actually looked rather normal. He black hair was styled to come over his eyes, giving him a dark edge. A wolf in disguise. Around me, I looked at the others' outfits. Dominic was dressed in a basic black shirt and trousers, his hair made into a mix of spikes and curls. Stanley was in a suit, wearing a white shirt, blue tie, blue jacket and blue trousers. Hard to miss, really. His hair had been combed and jelled back from his face. In fact, many of the boys wore basic clothing but all looked arguably attractive, but it was the girls that were striking.

Star was in a gold, shimmering dress that kissed the ground, and it looked like she was coated in diamonds. Her hair was tied up in a bundle of black curls and her face was smeared in makeup, and she looked too beautiful to be real. And she knew it. The girl from five was in an ocean blue dress that flared out at the waist, and she had blue high heels to match. Her hair was still curly, and she had a blue flower clipped in the golden strands. She didn't have much makeup on, but then again, she was a natural beauty. From four, the girl with light brown hair, she was wearing an emerald dress that clung to her slim frame, barely reaching her knees. Her hair had been left to naturally graze her shoulders. But out of all of us, it was probably me and Star that looked the most dazzling and intriguing, but at least I didn't blind people with my dress.

We were able to watch the interviews on the television that was pinned to the wall in front of us, and be able to hear every word said. Caesar gave off one last joke to the audience, who laughed ecstatically, and then he finally got to the point.

"Now then, our first tribute, who's name suggests she can shine, is Star from District 1!" he declared, and, with a ridiculously smug smile, Star rose to her feet and went for her interview. On screen a few moments later, she graced onto the stage and Caesar pretended to squint against the shining dress. The audience gasped in pleasant surprise and cheered madly for her. And once her interview was out of the way, the rest went very quickly. After all, we did only have three minutes.

People had many different tactics to win over the audience. Some spoke to the audience directly, others pretended they weren't there. Many came up with confident statements and told Caesar how much they loved what they were experiencing, and that they couldn't wait until the Games began. That made me feel sick slightly. However, some of them, like the girl from four, were very nervous and were tripping over their words, so Caesar used up the time by telling jokes to the crowd. How modest of him. When it was Dominic's turn, he was neither confident or nervous, and played it out like having a normal conversation. There was a point, however, when I knew that our interactions had been monitored.

"So, how are you going to tackle the first crucial hours tomorrow my fine man?" Caesar asked him. "Going at it alone or planning to have some assistance?"

But Dominic didn't miss a beat. "Just going to go with the flow." He answered with an indifferent shrug.

"Not planning to team up with some other tributes?" Caesar pressed.

"Who knows?" and then the buzzer went, ending the interview. Caesar wished him luck, and then the girl from six was called up.

Before I knew it, however, my name was called from Caesars lips. I stood and made my way elegantly to the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to Coco Blossom!" Caesar called out, and at the same moment, I appeared on stage. I gave a crooked smile to the crowd, tilting my head slightly in their direction. I hated them, yes, but I was playing dirty. I wanted their gifts, not their love. So, in order to achieve this, I got into character. Caesar collected my hand and sat me down, taking the seat opposite me.

"Well, first of us, look that that dress!" he said, looking to the crowd who spoke out in agreement.

"Why thank you." I said, smiling pleasantly.

"Now then, Foxy," he said, but stopped himself for a moment. "I'm sorry, can I call you that?"

"Of course. Everyone else seems to anyway." I told him, shrugging with a grin.

"Indeed they do, you certainly gave an impression from the parade." He agreed, a murmur of agreement rising from the crowd. "Tell me, what were you thinking when you were on that chariot?"

"I honestly can't remember." I answered truthfully. All I remembered was the screams and chants. "Only that people loved it."

"We did! Seeing you and Loki come out like that was incredible." He said. Everyone cheered, and some made foxy barks. I grinned in their direction. "Now then, about the Reaping..." he never finished, because the look I gave him was equivalent to being stabbed ten times over. He swallowed, giving a nervous grin. The crowd made sounds of excitement, loving the sudden tension. And I wasn't acting this way just because Cian told me to. I actually refused to talk about it, as I couldn't deal with having my mother's scream, Ash's shouts, and Myths cries of agony ring in my mind. I couldn't afford any distractions.

"Okay, let's not go there." He said, tapping my knee reassuringly. "What did you make of your experience here?" slowly, I smoothed out my features, but made little effort to smile. I leaned back into the chair, thinking over my answer.

"Well, certainly different." I answered, shrugging again. "I'll miss the chocolate cake, though." That earned laughs from the audience.

"I bet you will." Laughed Caesar. "The melt in the middle one?"

"_Especially _the melt in the middle one." I answered enthusiastically, cooling the atmosphere. More laughs.

"Now then, Foxy, one last question. What are your strategies for the Games?" he asked, and everyone quietened again. I thought this over before I gave a mischievous grin. This answered his question, as I wasn't prepared to give away my plan of fleeing and then teaming up with Dominic should either of us stay alive. So instead, I kept them guessing, and that won them over, so I decided to finish up the interview with these words, which were complete and utter lies.

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve." I said sweetly, and the crowd cheered and clapped, chanting my name. I had no tricks up my sleeve. All I knew was that if I ran, I'd last a little longer. But I was sure that I would have to face the tributes head on sooner rather than later, so really, I wasn't lying. I was going to think up a plan before that gong blasted. Think of a way to take them out.

My buzzer went, indicating the end of my interview. Caesar thanked me and wished me luck, and I went off back stage and met with Cian and Evey. Judging by the looks on their faces, I had done very well. Evey came over to me and hugged me tightly, careful to not smudge my makeup.

"They loved you!" she said. "You did so well!"

"Thank you." I whispered, meeting Cian's eyes over her shoulder. He came over to me, not saying a word, and collected one of my hands in his. He examined my nails closely.

"Martha's idea." He told me. "Could be a nice form of defence." Instantly, I had an image of myself slashing someone in the face, and who I was slashing was immediately Star. I found myself suddenly feeling grateful towards Martha's creation of the fox.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"She's watching the interviews. You'll see her tomorrow when she escorts you to the arena." And that was when it all finally sunk in. The arena. The alleged bloodbath. The promise of half the tributes deaths is in first hour. In response, my heart began to pound erratically, and the fright must have shown on my face. Before anyone could see my sudden weakness, the real me, the two adults took me back to our floor and sat me down in the living room, not allowing me to watch Loki's interview. It was stupid really, how I had finally let the fact that I may die tomorrow sink in. I had been so wrapped up in looking strong and deceiving, I forgot for a while how to be afraid. By the time we reached our floor, I was in tears. Cian sat me on the sofa and took my face in his hands.

"Listen to me, you've been so brave so far, you can't cave in now." He told me gently, brushing away my hair and tears, coating his thumb in golden glitter.

"Why do you care so much?" I wept. "It's Loki who you're rooting for."

"In the beginning, yes, but now I'm rooting for both of you."

"But why?" I demanded, trying to jerk my head.

"Because you are one tough cookie." He answered, forcing me to look him in the eyes. Deep green orbs that were smouldering, holding something deep within. Hope. Belief. Pride. By looking into his eyes, I knew he actually did believe in me, believed I could win. I sniffed, blinking away the fresh tears, and took a long shaky breath. I noticed Evey was gone, and presumed she must have gone back down to greet Loki. Cian simply knelt in front of me in the floor, his hands now on my shoulders, as he waited for me to compose myself. Once I finally stopping sniffling and trembling, he smiled.

"Good girl." He said, and then Evey and Loki arrived. Evey must have told Loki about my state, as he rushed over to me and collected me in his arms. He sat down and placed me on his lap, holding me closely but not saying a word. He was warm and still smelt of mint, and I felt soothed for a moment.

"You two," said Cian, grabbing our attention. "once in the arena, stay the hell away from one another, alright?"

"Why?" Loki asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"Do you really want to be the ones to kill the other?" Cian said, and behind the harsh words, he spoke of what I had thought about from the very beginning. When Loki didn't reply, Cian continued. "When you get in there, try and snag some goods. If you can't, run and don't look back. Find shelter and water and stay low for a while."

"Until when?" Loki said.

"Until the next day. When everything has settled." Cian answered. His eyes then locked onto mine. "Remember what you first told me? When I asked about skills?"

"I said I could run." I answered.

"Right. I want to see just how fast you can run. Do me proud, Foxy." He told me, and I gave a stiff nod. "Now, bed." And he shooed us off without another word, but I caught his eyes, mouthing thank you, with which he nodded in response. Loki followed me into my own room, taking my hand and leading me to my bed, plonking me down. He knelt down in front of me, much like Cian had, and looked me right in the eyes.

"You can do this, kiddo." He told me sternly.

"You have to fight, too." I said. "For Myth."

"We both do. We'll both fight for her." He agreed. "Just promise me, that when the faces come up in the sky tomorrow night, that you won't be on it. Promise me."

"I promise." I said, not missing a beat. He leaned up and kissed my forehead. When he pulled back, he had tears in his eyes which broke my heart. For the last time, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Would you have married her?" I whispered after a moment. He shuddered against me.

"Yes." He croaked.

"If you get back home, marry her straight away. Don't grieve over me or anything, just get married and live a long, happy life." I told him, speaking against the lump in my throat.

"And if you go home, make sure she lives a happy life without me." he told me. We pulled away, locked eyes, and he put his hand out to me. I took it, and we shook hands, sealing the deal. He kissed my head one last time before he left, and I was alone with the horrors that had not yet unfolded.

I took a shower, washing all the hair spray, glitter and makeup away, but the water didn't seem as pleasant. My mood only sunk lower as the hours of the night passed by. I went to bed, but of course, I was unable to sleep. I kept thinking of the following day's events, of what might happen, and what most likely will happen. I fell in and out of consciousness, each time waking up from a new, disturbing nightmare. Blood, guts, frozen hearts, penetrating screams, snapping of necks and tearing of flesh all consumed my subconscious. At one point, I dreamed of that sheep, only it morphed into a human body who guts were spilt all over the place. Every possible nightmare consumed me that night, and at one point when I woke up, I was panicking because I was tangled in my sheets. Trapped, unable to escape. For a moment, I thought the Games had already begun.

And then, all too soon, Martha came to rouse me before dawn. She looked upset, but managed to smile when she saw I was up and waiting already. She dressed me in a simple dress, as I would not receive my arena clothes until we arrived at the arena before the launch. She took my hand and guided me to the roof of the Training Centre, but before we left, I spotted Rose in the living room while she cleaned the sofa. Her eyes met mine, and when Martha wasn't looked, offered a tiny wave. I mouthed bye back to her, and that was it. Martha took me to the roof when a hovercraft waited above, with a ladder waiting for us to climb. Upon contact, I was frozen in place while lifted. No, really, I _physically _couldn't move. When I reached the doorway of the hovercraft, a woman with greying hair and wearing a white coat greets me.

"Stay still, I need to insert the tracker." She told me. I couldn't exactly object. She had some kind on needle, and she inserted it into my forearm, placing the small metal device that was now my tracker. From now on, I was officially a part of the Games. An official Tribute. The ladder released me and then it collected Martha, and the rest of the ride consisted of me trying to stuff my face silly and drink plenty of water.

Finally, after a forty minute ride and the last ten minutes consisting of the windows being blacked out, the hovercraft landed, and we were lowered below ground under the arena. The Launch Room. We were led to a room for myself, which was complete with a shower and changing room. Nothing more. Well, aside from the tube that would rise me to my death. I avoided that thing until it was time to climb in.

Martha made me shower and brush my teeth and she towel dried my hair until it was damp and straight. And then she took my hand in hers, examining my nails much like Cian had the previous night.

"Make sure you get a good scratch in there." She told me. I nodded.

"Thank you." and then the arena clothes arrived. Martha pulled the clothing out of a bag, and they were very basic. Brown hiking boots, black nylon trousers which made an awful racket, and a black t-shirt. There was a nylon jacket, too, but Martha wrapped it around my waist, tying a knot with the sleeves around my stomach. Just as she finished dressing me, there was an announcement that I had sixty seconds until Launch. Martha cupped my face and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Stay alive, Foxy." She said lowly.

"I'll try." I whispered.

"Outsmart them. Outsmart them all, okay?"

"I will. I promise." I told her, and she kissed my head and hugged me. When the notice for thirty seconds was announced, she had to push me in the direction of the tube.

"As soon as the mines are deactivated, run." She told me. The mines. They took sixty seconds to deactivate. Sixty seconds of watching the other tributes get ready. Martha pushed me into the tube, and before I could make a run for it, I was sealed in. Martha placed her hand on the glass and I lined mine up with hers. She mouthed good luck to me, and I thanked her. Ten seconds until Launch.

Beneath me, my cylinder began to rise, and adrenaline pulsed through me as I worked myself up for the next minute. Heart pounding, blood pulsing, my breathing rigid. I bounced slightly on my toes, the need to run suddenly unbearable. And then, smacking me square in the face, cool air hit my cheeks. The sun was bright and the air was slightly warm, and under my clothing, I felt myself begin to sweat. It was all I could do to not run there and then. Beyond the brightness, all I could see was yellow grass standing taller that the average sized man, meaning it towered over me. I couldn't see any of the other tributes, not even the Cornucopia. And then, Claudius Templesmith's voice was the only sound i could hear above the pulsing of my heart.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Sixtieth Hunger Games begin!" and the countdown began.

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><p><strong>Let the Games finally begin! Review! <strong>


	10. Let The Games Begin

**Thank you to those who are reviewing and enjoying this story. I'm really enjoying writing it for you. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes :)**

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><p>Panic. That was all I could feel. Panic at being unable to see the others. The grass was so tall and so thick, I had to crane my head to be able to see the sky. It swayed in front of me, taunting me. How far away was the Cornucopia? What goods could we find? How far spread was I from the other tributes? Through my disorientation, I listened to the countdown. Fifty seconds. Forty seconds. Thirty seconds. I hadn't even come up with a plan yet! But I made it there and then on the cylinder. It was ridiculous, but I needed something to help me get by. A sleeping bag, rope, a weapon of some kind. Anything! Sharp nails wasn't going to keep me alive!<p>

I was going to run straight ahead and pray that the Cornucopia would come into view before the other tributes. When it came to twenty seconds, though my was blinded with panic, I readied myself for a sprint. _Focus, focus. _I was going to run and grab whatever I could, and hopefully avoid contact with the others. If I could find a dagger, maybe I could take some out in self defence.

Ten seconds. Heart pounding, my panic suddenly subsiding to determination. I could feel my legs tensing, building up the power for speed. My breathing ultimately slowed, and the more I focussed, the more I could see. Through the grass around me, I was able to spot a leg here, and hand there. We weren't very spaced out, so that meant the Cornucopia couldn't be too far ahead.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The gong blasted, and I took off without a second thought. I ran as fast as possible, faster than when I was playing with Myth. I shot through the grass, the ground flat under my feet. It was easy to move through, and all around me I could hear the pounding of feet on the ground. Breaths became more prominent. Through the grass on my right, I could see the movement of a fellow tribute, a boy I think, and they fled through the strands. He was so fast, but I was faster. The grass never seemed to end, and I had misjudged the location of the Cornucopia. It took me a good minute or so to reach it.

I leapt out of the grass into a circle of flat, clear land. The Cornucopia was only a few meters away from me, but I didn't reach it immediately. As I leapt into the open, I collided with someone on my left and we both screamed. We fell in a bundle on the ground, and I landed on my right wrist. It twisted under our weight, and over the screams, I heard the sickening crunch of my bones. My attacker, a girl from District 7, rolled off me and was yelling in pain, gripping her knee. I gritted my teeth and got back to my feet, fleeing again. That happened within the time space of seven seconds.

More tributes emerged, leaping into the open and racing for the Cornucopia. I couldn't see Loki anywhere, but I didn't stick around to see him. On the ground, weapons and backpacks were scattered far and wide, some disappearing into the grass. Weapons were also spaced out, a mix from axes, knives, sling shots, swords, gloves with spikes on the knuckles, and so many more. In my haste, I swiped up a blue pack, flinging it over one shoulder with my good hand, and then snagged two daggers. And that was when everything went down.

Around me, I saw the others lunge for one another. The girl I collided with was still on the ground, gripping her knee and crying in pain, and then a boy from District 3 came and slit her throat. I turned and started to run, but in front of me, I saw the boy from District 1 beating the brunette from District 5 to death. A boy from District 11 was stumbling towards me, a spear wedged in his gut. He reached for me, the word _help _forming his lips. And then he was pierced with a dagger in the throat. I jumped over his body, trying to run for the grass again, overcome with terror and blinded by tears. My fright was enough to numb the agony in my wrist.

The girl from Twelve also tried to flee for the grass on my right, but she went down when a knife flew into her lower back, another at the nape of her neck. Behind her was Stanley, also racing for the grass, but he tripped over the girl's body and a boy from Two came to maul him. With a horrific cry of remorse, I disappeared with my life.

I kept running through the grass, turning this way and that to confuse any pursuing tribute. Tears streamed down my face but I focussed completely on getting out of there. I heard the screams of agony and anger behind me, fading away into the distance. The grass went on forever, and I must have ran for at least ten minutes. My chest was on fire and my legs suffered from searing pain, but that was nothing with the agony in my wrist that was catching up to me. I bit down on my lip to hold back the screams that were building up in my throat.

Unable to stop running and unable to think straight, I never saw the bank in front of me. The ground practically disappeared under my feet, and I tumbled down the bank. The grass shortened and thinned out, and luckily for me, I had put my two daggers in my belt during my escape. Not being able to do anything but let gravity pull me down, I tucked my broken wrist to my chest to try and avoid any more damage. After a thirty second fall, I fell on my back onto flat, open land. Right at a river bed of flowing water.

Around me there was nothing but a rocky cliff on the other side of the river and the hill I had just tumbled down. I looked up the hill, seeing the golden grass sway at the top. I had to crane my neck to see. The cliff was vertical but was climbable, but with a broken wrist I knew that ascending it was not an option. As the pain grew in my wrist, I dared to look at it. It had swollen to twice its normal thickness, and from the collision to now, it had turned a deep purple. I could see the rising of my skin, one of the bones threatening to make an appearance. It was bent awkwardly, and I let out whimpers as the agony grew. I tried to recall how this damage had happened in such a accidental circumstance. But it was so easy to break a bone. We must have been running so fast that when we collided, our crash must have had enough force to break it under over weight. And the girl who caused it was now dead.

When the need to scream became too great, I loosening my jacket from around my waist and stuffed a portion of it in my mouth, blocking any sound. I couldn't afford to give away my location. I shrugged off the bag from my shoulder and opened it with my good hand. Inside was a metal water bottle filled with water, bandages, a mirror on a long, thin handle, and a black blanket. Unable to do anything else, I yanked out the bandages, which were a good meter and a half long. There were two rolls of the same size, and I used up one on my wrist. It was the only option I had, so I made sure it was thickly wrapped to resemble a form of splint. I bit down harder on the chunk of nylon in my mouth as I tried to bend my wrist. So, trying to make some form of support, I managed to wrap my jacket over my back, the sleeves falling over my shoulders. Using my mouth and free hand, I tied a double knot and settled my wrist on the support gingerly. It would have to do.

I looked down the line of the river, and it stretched a good fifty meters before turning off. The ground was orange, coated in dusty sand that would leave footprints. Slipping out of my shoes, rolling up my trousers and biting on my lip, I picked them up and stuffed them in my backpack. I walked into the river and I stumbled over the rocky floor and avoided climbing over dry boulders. If I had to, I splashed my prints with water. When I came to the turning, it looked like a cross section. To the left, the grassy land had flattened but the grass remained tall, but over the top that towered over the landscape was an apple tree, a good kilometre from where I stood. To the right, caves of different sizes were bedded into the cliff, both on the ground and a far climb up. I decided that I could go and gather some apples, and then settle in one of the caves.

Ten minutes later, I arrived at the tree. It was smack bang in the middle of a small, open land of flat ground, the grass just a meter away all around. Secluded and safe. The tree was climbable, so I climbed it to get a good look at the arena through the branches. It took me five minutes to reach the top, delayed with my injury. And I had to gasp. For miles there was just a stretch of grass, which rose with the bank, and beyond that there looked to me a jungle of some sort, green and lush against the hot, desert theme. The cliff went on as far and the eye could see, and if I looked carefully, I could make out the Cornucopia about three kilometres away, the golden horn poking up slightly through the grass. And, looking even more closely, I saw the grass move far away as the tributes ran through it. I gulped, and looked around in an arc. Dotted around were more fruit trees. And that was it.

Satisfied with where I was, I jumped down and picked up apples that had fallen free. And as I circled the tree, I found a hole in the ground at the base of the trunk. Two holes, actually, that were just big enough for me to squeeze into. They looked like the openings to fox dens... and then it hit me. Fox dens. I was the face, the fox. Gamemakers made the arena months in advance, but they could make small alterations during the week of training. This alteration was made for me. People must have been watching me and my craving for apples, so inserted the apple tree and adding the dens. They knew that if I lived long enough, the apple tree would draw me in.

Cautiously, I peeked into the openings. It was possible that they were rigged, but with it being so early in the Games, the amount of deaths at the bloodbath would satisfy any viewer. They wouldn't set up traps just yet. So, following my gut instinct and slipping the bag from my shoulder, I got to the floor and shuffled awkwardly down the opening. It descended just under a meter down, and the tunnel was actually quite spacious. Down here, it looked like a child's maze, the tubes going off in different directions. I came to the conclusion that my theory of it being safe was true, as it was completely empty. It was cool down here, too, away from the sun's rays. I dragged down the backpack and moved deeper inside. I crawled to the left opening, settled down against the hard, soil/sand wall, and ate away at my gathered apples.

About an hour past when I finally heard the cannons fire, resembling the fallen. I counted down in my head how many had died in the bloodbath. The blasts seemed to go on forever, and when it finally stopped, I had counted nine. Nine tributes dead, leaving fifteen of us left. I thought of who I knew were dead. The girl from Five, the girl from Twelve, the boy from Eleven, the girl from Seven and Stanley. That was five already who I knew had died in the first ten minutes.

More hours passed, and I had dozed off in between from the lack of sleep from the previous night. I was awoken by the sound of the anthem, and I knew it was time to see who else had died. Slowly and carefully, I shuffled my way to the opening of the den and craned my head to the left, looking up at the sky. The faces of the perished appeared once the anthem ended. The five I had already counted, and the face of Stanley made my stomach churn. The other four consisted of a boy from Six, both from Four (which was surprising because they were normally parts of the Career packs), and the boy from Twelve. So that left both from One, Two, Three, Nine and Ten, and one from Five, Six Seven, Eight and Eleven. That meant that Dominic and Loki were still alive.

With the revelation of Loki still being alive, and the fact that Dominic may come looking for me over the next few days, left me feeling exhausted. But that didn't go without the thud that sounded from outside. Just as I turned to retreat back into the den, I turned back and was met by a white parachute. My heart skipped a beat as I opened its contents. Inside was a leather bag, filled with ice. Ice for my wrist. I looked to the sky.

"Thank you." I whispered, and retreated back inside, soothing my wrist over the bandage. Gingerly, I took out the blanket from my bag and wrapped it around me. Despite everything, I didn't endure one single nightmare.

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	11. The Alliance

**Thank you again for the reviews! Glad you're enjoying this! Sorry for any spelling mistakes, I tried to correct as many as I could find. Enjoy :)**

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><p>I woke with a start half way through the night, but it wasn't a nightmare that woke me. I woke with a pounding heart and my claw-like nails were digging into the earth. I tried to think of anything I may have dreamt about, but it had nothing to do with my imagination. Through my slumber, my subconscious had picked up a threat. I held my breath, shoving aside all the disorientation, and once I cleared my mind I knew what was wrong. My eyes travelled to above my head, wide and alert. Footsteps, right above my location, on the surface. And voices to go along with them.<p>

I listened to the shuffling of the sandy soil above me. I couldn't hear what the invaders were saying, the sounds reaching me as low rumbles. Without thinking, I moved my uninjured hand to the handle of one of the daggers in my belt, gripping onto it like it was my lifeline. Well, it was. I breathed slowly, trying not to panic at the danger I was in. My nails dug into the flesh of my hand as I gripped the handle, and I felt the skin tear and fought back a hiss. I tried to reason with myself that whoever was above me was gathering some apples, but my instincts told me otherwise. By the way the footsteps sounded, huddled together and tapping in annoyance, they told me that they were doing anything but foraging. And from what I could tell, their voices were low and agitated. But then a clear voice travelled down to me from the entrance of the den, and I swore my heart stopped in terror.

"Guys, there's a tunnel here!" it was a boy's voice, a low and intimidating growl.

"Move it!" this was Star's voice. Her ragged breath carried down to me, and I silently shuffled deeper into my tube. She let out a angered hiss. "The little brat could be down there." She snarled. _Me, she was talking about me! _In the gloom of my hide out, I saw that there was another turnoff just a few feet away, and I silently crawled down it, dragging my bag and blanket with me. The leather bag on my wrist consisted of water now, and the bag shaped itself around my wrist and stayed in place. At least the pain there was numb.

The voices turned to mumbles again as I moved deeper, but Star must have sent someone down to search it. I hugged my backpack to my chest, closing my eyes and praying that I was safe. I heard someone clamber their way down, a grunt here and a wheeze there which indicated they barely fit in. I swallowed and listened closely. And when I heard the shuffling come closer to me, it wasn't just my wrist that was numb anymore. Light travelled through the darkness, artificial light coming from a torch. I wanted to cry, wanted to plead with whoever was going to kill me. The light came brighter, stronger, hurting my eyes. And then a face appeared around the corner, and I wanted to scream in his face.

Dominic locked his eyes on mine, pointing the light straight in my face. Before he could react, I had my dagger at his throat, sneering darkly at him. His eyes widened in shock, swallowing loudly. I was baring my teeth at him, and if looks could kill, he would have suffered a hundred deaths. But he had suffered a lot already. He had a black eye and a bruise on his cheek, and a gash travelled from his temple right down to his jaw line. And when I saw his hand move, I added slight pressure on the blade at his neck. Then I saw what he was trying to tell me as his indicated for me to lower my weapon. _Trust me_.

"There are too many tunnels down here!" he shouted, his eyes never leaving mine. I moved my blade a fraction from his throat. "She could be anywhere!"

"Keep looking!" I just about heard Star bellowed. Dominic shuffled back, disappeared around the corner, and I was plunged into darkness again. I kept a tight grip on the handle, fury pulsing through my blood. But I wasn't angry at Dominic when I realized what he had got himself into. No, I was furious with the Careers. They were holding him captive, forcing information out of him. Beating him to get what they wanted. They were keeping him alive to find me, and then they were going to kill him without remorse. And by letting me go, he was stretching both our life spans.

Twenty or so minutes later, I heard Dominic leave the den. There were shouts and barks, but after a few minutes, footsteps pounded on the ground above me and shot off into the distance. I let out a whimper of relief, collapsing into the wall and breathing hard. I thought that the audience would have loved that, watching me put a blade to the boy's throat. It was probably a good thing to do. It showed that I had strength. I also bet that the commentators were having a brilliant time watching and commenting on it.

I moved swiftly through the tunnels and emerged to the exit, looking around and making sure it was safe. When I found the place deserted, I darted to the tree and climbed it as quickly as possible, ignoring the faint pain in my wrist. I moved through the branches and poked my head through the leaves. I saw the torch lights bouncing around in the distance, about five of them. I made a guess that there were about five or six Careers in total. As I watched, I saw that they were travelling towards the Cornucopia, and that was when I knew where they had set up camp. What better place was there to set it up, what with all the supplies that would still be on offer? And that was when I knew what I first plan was going to be. Get Dominic out of their clutches.

I waited for about an hour in the tree, waiting for the torches to blink out. Once they did, I made my move. I descended from the tree and took to the grass, moving like a snake through the strands. I walked slowly, buying time for them to fall asleep. It would take me at least twenty minutes to reach their location, which was more than enough time. If there was anything human about the Careers, they would be exhausted by now.

The closer I got, the stealthier I moved. I had one of the two daggers out and ready at my side, the other neatly tucked in my belt. By the time I reached the edge of the grass surrounding the Cornucopia, I was on my hunches. Using the tip of my blade, I parted the grass just a fraction, peering into the small open land. On top of the Cornucopia looked to be the night watcher, a boy who looked to be from District 2. Bad luck for them, as he was flat out on his stomach, snoring lightly. The rest were on the ground, scattered near and far. Indeed, there were six members, but the seventh member was Dominic. The rest were members from One, Two and Three. Dominic was opposite me on the far side, lying on his side as he slept. He was kicking his legs, in the midst of a nightmare. I slinked my way around the circle, staying in the confinements of the grass.

He lay with his back kissing the strands, and I prodded him with the handle of my dagger. He bolted upright, but before he could let out a shock of alarm, I clamped my hand over his mouth and dragged him into the grass. He thrashed slightly, but with the help of the moon in the sky, he quickly stopped when he saw my face. I put my finger to my lips, symbolizing silence. He nodded vigorously and I grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. And, before anyone of the Careers could awaken, we dashed through the grass and ran for the tree.

It was funny how it was Dominic who should have been doing the rescue missions, not me. A fourteen year old being rescued by a twelve year old, quite ironic. But I would question his capture once we were safe.

Finally, ten minutes faster than travelling to the Cornucopia, we made it back to the tree. Dominic was panting, bracing his hands on his knees and shuddering. I would have done the same, but my wrist prevented me from even doing that. Instead I collapsed on the ground, panting into the gravel.

"You... came for... me." Dominic rasped, meeting my eyes.

"I owed you one." I answered more steadily from the ground. He nodded, closing his eyes and regaining control over his breathing.

"They were going to kill me in the morning, too." He said after a few minutes.

"How do you know?" I asked, but not really surprised.

"When they thought I was asleep, I listened in on them. Said I was a waste of time." He told me.

"Why didn't you just run?" I asked, confused.

"Max, the one on the Cornucopia, he can kill with a spear from any reasonable range. I'd have been dead in seconds." He answered. I nodded, understanding. And then his eyes travelled to my wrist. He raised his eyebrows.

"Broken." I said stiffly. He came over to me and began to reach for it. "Don't touch it." I said, jerking away.

"Let me look." He said, watching me carefully. I shook my head and he sighed. "I just want to see how bad it is."

"What does it matter?" I said, and he caught the silent addition. _I'm going to die anyway. _He said nothing and let the matter drop. I then realised that we were in a risky situation with our location. "We need to go down. Stay low for a while."

"Sounds good." He agreed, and the two of us went down my den. It was a tight squeeze for him, but the deeper we got, the easier he could move around. We went to my backpack, back where I had left it and encountered Dominic, and we settled down, feeling more secure. After a few minutes, Dominic spoke up.

"Stanley, what happened to him?" he asked me quietly. "I missed the sky... they'd knocked me out when they caught me."

"Dead." I said solemnly. "I watched it happen." He shook, and something of a croak escaped his lips.

"We were supposed to team up and run for it, but the grass disorientated us..." he said in a gravelly voice.

"We all got disorientated, I think." I said quietly. I remembered the blinding panic I felt when I couldn't see the Cornucopia or any of the other tributes, the confusion of where I was.

"He was my friend from District 5." He said, furiously wiping his eyes.

"But he came from District 8." I said, frowning.

"He was transferred last year for stealing, him and his family got relocated as punishment." He said in a bitter tone. Transferring did happen, where instead of lashings or execution, people were transferred to the lower ranking districts with nothing to live on. No home, no food or water, no jobs. Many people who were transferred managed to get by, but many others died from the lack of the main elements everyone needs.

"I'm sorry." Was all I could say. I shivered with the memory of Stanley tripping over the girl's body, tumbling to the ground, and then the Career jumping on him and beating him to death. Thinking about it felt as vivid as actually being there. So fresh in my mind, enough to taunt me now that I knew what his relationship was with Dominic. And guilt overwhelmed me. I could have helped him, slashed his attacker away, but I ran for my life instead. He was going to haunt me for the rest of my life, especially if Dominic was in my presence.

"Loki is still alive, right?" he asked me suddenly. I nodded, carefully watching him. "Thought so. I watched him run in the direction of the jungle." The jungle. The place where he could settle up in trees and hunt for live game. Where he could play the role of the hunter. I could play the role of the scavenger here, picking off the fruit and sneak the supplies from the Cornucopia. I have to say, the Gamemakers had planned it all out perfectly. I was beginning to think that they had forced Martha into the fox and wolf theme, and it was just a stroke of luck that I was able to deceive people into thinking I was strong. Either way, it was working for them.

"How do you know about the jungle?" I asked. The grass was too long for even him to see.

"They insisted on climbing the cliff to see what the arena was like. That's how they spotted the apple tree." He told me. "Stroke of luck, I guess." And then he gave a long, heavy yawn.

"Go to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow." I said gently. He nodded and settled down, resting the good side of his face on his arms and drifting off to sleep. I covered him in the blanket and got to my feet.

"Where are you going?" he whispered.

"Someone needs to keep watch." I answered. I left the den and climbed the tree once again, leaning against the trunk in the highest branches. I untied my jacket and rested my wrist on my stomach, and used the jacket as my blanket for myself. From here, I would be able to see if any of the other tributes were coming to cause trouble. So as I settled down I put my key senses on high alert, listening to the night and looking all around. It would be dawn soon, anyway.

I let myself think of the day's events. I was lucky to be alive, but that meant I would have to endure horrific nightmare, carry the guilt of Stanley on my shoulders, and wait for my death to arrive. I also wondered what Loki was doing. Was he safe? Was he injured? Did he have an alliance? I wouldn't know. I never even spotted him at the bloodbath. I found myself missing his warmth and scent, longed to feel safe in his arms. But it was clear now that we were on our own. And, as much as I didn't want to believe it, I was sure that Gamemakers were intent on getting us to have the final showdown. If not with Loki, they'd make me have one with Star.

I thought about the families who would now be grieving. How their child had been ripped away from them in the first minutes of the Games. The girl I crashed into, brutally killed by the slit of the throat, and her dying moments were in agony. Stanley, beaten to a pulp by fists with no remorse. The boy from Eleven, begging me for help. They all died in anguish, suffered for longer than necessary. It hardly seemed fair. These kids, taller, stronger and older than me, died in minutes. How could I still be alive, with weapons, food and water? How was that ever going to be reasonable? Even now, acting as a guard while Dominic slumbered, what was his family thinking? Hating me, because I put a dagger to his throat? Or loving me because I saved his life? I didn't want to know.

I felt the air warm up as the sun began to rise, engulfing the arena into the light of dawn. The sky was a mix of reds, oranges and blues, lighting the world into a somehow peaceful manner. I sighed, my eyes falling heavy at long last. As if on cue, Dominic emerged from the den, squinting as he tried to locate me in the tree.

"Coco, get some rest." He murmured just loud enough for me to hear. I happily obliged, jumping clumsily from the tree. I bit back a squeak as pained seared in my wrist with a jolt. Dominic quickly came over, picking up my jacket that had fallen to the ground with my jump. I effortlessly created the support I had made previously, before he ushered me into the den. I told him that is anything happened, he needed to shout and then run. That way, he would get a clean escape while I disappeared into the tunnels. After all, I was a light sleeper if I could sense people standing above me above ground. Once in the tunnel, I took a swig of water, the first drink I had had since the launch. I told myself that I would have to give Dominic some later. At long last, I curled into the blanket and drifted off into sleep, and this time around, I was haunted with the face of Stanley.

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	12. Trickster

**The next chapter! Enjoy! Again, sorry for any mistakes and thank you for the reviews! :D**

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><p>My eyes fluttered open to the sound of my stomach growling. In a moment of confusion, I expected to see my mother holding a plate of buttered bread to my nose, urging me to rouse. But of course, reality dawned on me. I was here, in the Games, every minute threatening to me my last. I stretched and yawned before I sighed sadly. My wrist was no longer numb, and once the pain caught up with me, my bit down on my tongue to drown the hiss. I instantly knew I needed a distraction, so therefore, I thought I'd better check on Dominic.<p>

When I reached the exit, I squinted and shrank back into the confinements of the hole. Dominic, who's silhouette I could make out, was still up in the tree. Judging by his relaxed posture, nothing had happened while I slept. I waited for my eyes to adjust, and once they did, I stumbled out into the open.

"Good afternoon." Dominic said, his voice too unguarded.

"Be quiet." I hissed, glaring up at him. He grinned and waved a hand dismissively, and I watched him carefully as I grasped an apple, chewing into the skin.

"Don't worry, the Careers are trying a new angle. You can see everything up here, and I watched them run into the jungle a few hours ago." He told me calmly. I imagined how the scene must have looked. The grass swaying in a line with their movements, confining any creature within. It would look like a snake moving through the grass, only on a much larger scale. If me and Dominic stuck to a routine, we wouldn't miss a thing.

"How long do you think they'll be?" I asked with a full mouth. He shrugged.

"This arena is huge, I'll bet that the jungle takes up as much area as the grass." He said, his eyes grazing across the land. I thought for a moment, contemplating our options.

"Maybe we should check out the Cornucopia." I suggested. "You know, gather some weapons and supplies." In response, he leapt from the highest branch, landing neatly on all fours as my feet. He grinned down at me as he stood up, and I knew that he was thinking a definite yes. So, making up our minds, I went back into the den and gathered the bag, leaving behind the blanket for the time being and finishing off the apple. I made a metal note to make it back here before sunset. When I reappeared at the surface, I lobbed Dominic the bottle of water and threw the apple core into the grass. He sensibly took no more than a few sips before he handed it back. And without further or do, we trekked into the grass.

The sun beamed down on us angrily, scorching hot on our backs. My nylon clothes clung to my skin, damp with sweat all over my body. I had slid into my boots, but after just five minutes of walking in them, I had to take them off as it felt like my feet were suffering in water, stuffing the shoes in the bag. I constantly wiped my arm across my forehead, huffing and puffing with the heat. So it was obvious that the Gamemakers had chosen a desert theme this year, but unlike other years where the tributes dropped like flies, they provided us with a river, fruit trees and a jungle. But for the audiences of the Capitol, watching the tributes suffer with nature was all part of the fun. In the end, I gave up with the jacket acting as a support and wrapping it around my waist. But I changed my mind again, knowing that if I was going to be running, the jacket would get in the way. Gingerly, I put it on, hissing painfully when I put my bad wrist through the sleeve, and then rolled up the sleeves. It was hot, yes, but I needed a layer of some form of protection.

After a half an hour walk, the heat slowing us down, we crouched low as we neared the lining of the grass. There was no doubt that at least one Career would be watching the supplies on display. I turned to Dominic, and he had his eyes pinned straight ahead. On the ground. For a moment I panicked, but I realised he was in a form of flashback, because a few feet away from us, the ground was stained black along with a portion of the grass. It was easily seen as dried blood from the previous day. The dried pool was rather large, forming a roundish circle. My imagination got the better of me as I pictured a human body there, the head in the pool with an axe in the skull. I furiously shook the thought away. Cautiously, I took Dominic's hand and guided him along, sidestepping the blood that was in our path. Once it vanished from our sight, Dominic shook and then refocused. I smiled kindly before we continued, ignoring the twist of fear in my gut.

Finally, we reached our destination, and my prediction was right. The boy from District 2 was pacing back and forth, patrolling in front of the goods that were piled up at the opening of the Cornucopia. He wore the gloves with spikes I had seen the previous day, and in one hand he grasped a spear. The previous night, Dominic had said a boy called Max could throw a spear great distances, so I had a name to this tribute. He was also the one who was on guard that night as well, so maybe this was his punishment for being so careless. Stay and watch the supplies while burning alive. I had no complaints, and if Star was the ring leader, she actually did something right for my benefit.

Beads of sweat were pouring from Max's face, which looked strawberry red against his blonde hair. His clothes were coated in blood, and I knew it wasn't his own. He had a cut here and a scratch there, but all in all, he was pretty much unscathed. In his case, it was the sun that was the main enemy, and the sun was working in my favour. Dominic and I had only been walking in the sun for half an hour, whereas this Max had been in it for two or three hours. Looking at him now, I could see that he was struggling to focus, too busy wiping his face dry with his bloody jacket sleeve. I was stumped for a moment as to why he kept the thing on, but maybe he was too disorientated to have the sense to take it off. But then I realized why. He had it zipped open, and on sun shone on items beneath. Knives. I gathered in a gulp of air, puffing my cheeks, before I released it with a huff. The stomping of the boy covered up the sound, and I quietly slid my feet back into my boots.

My palms scraped the ground as I watched the scene before me, trying to come up with a plan. The weapons were in such easy reach it was painful, but this skilled fighter was a huge obstacle in itself. I would have stolen supplies the night before, but it was too dark to be able to locate anything useful. But then, scraping my skin on my hand, was a sharp rock that was bigger than my fist. I picked it up, staring at it. I few inches away, a smaller rocker of the same sharpness rested on the sandy, grassy ground. And then I came up with an idea.

Dominic had been watching me very closely, and had his brows raised when I picked up the rock. I gripped his jacket the same way Cian had done to me and Loki, dragging him silently away from the line. Then I whispered into his ear, barely audible but understandable.

"Throw the rocks at the Cornucopia. Run around the circle and throw then randomly, but make sure you hit it. Distract him for as long as possible." I whispered quickly, hoping he caught every word I said. It was probably only a matter of time until the others showed up, so we needed to work fast. That meant I didn't have time to repeat myself. I shot off to the right, circling until I reached the rear of the Cornucopia. I silently shrugged out of my bag and crouched low, ignoring the rising pain in my wrist.

Dominic waited a couple of minutes until he acted, but when he did, he acted in full force. A miniature boulder crashed into the left side of the Cornucopia, a clang ringing in the air. Max whipped around in the direction of the noise, but Dominic was already on the right side, a smaller rock colliding into the horn. He kept doing this with another five rocks, and then it came to the point where Max randomly threw knives into the grass in a fit of rage. Not so bright, or he would have figured out that Dominic was a decoy. The sun had clearly ruined his common sense.

Once the knives started flying, I dashed into the open circle, slinking into the left side of the Cornucopia. A clang rung on the roof, and I heard Max make a run for the back of the Cornucopia. I dashed in the same direction, running to the left side. Adrenaline driving me forward, I ran into the opening of the horn and snagged whatever I could in four seconds. A spear, one of them gloves, another backpack, this one being bright green. I grabbed whatever was on top of the pile and then ran around the Cornucopia again, narrowly missing Max.

"Show yourself!" he barked. I ran to the back, carelessly lobbing the items into the grass. Another rock flew over my head, bouncing on the roof of the horn. Max raced to the back, giving me another chance to steal more goods. How I was getting away with this, I would never know. The sun could sometimes be a miracle worker! And I also bet that the Capitol were laughing their heads off at this wild goose chase, something a twelve year old had come up with and over powering a sixteen year old Career.

I grasped another spear and a sword, and that was when the real trouble occurred.

"Come here!" Max howled, and the next thing I knew, I was ploughed to the ground. I screamed at the jolt in my wrist and I felt the tearing of my skin on my cheek bone. With what strength I had in my good arm, I threw the weapons into the grass. I came to face Max in the eyes above me, but before he could pin me to the ground, a memory arose.

"_Make sure you get a good scratch in there." _Martha's voice rang in my mind, and without a second thought, I slashed Max's cheek with my good hand. He yelled out in pain, and four deep gashes began to bleed. I kicked him off of me and clambered to my feet, running for the grass. Dominic was already waiting, both packs over his shoulders, the weapons inside and the two spears in his hand. And then, the nightmare truly began. Shouts of the other members rang in our ears, and we heard them leap into the opening at the commotion.

"In there!" Max bellowed. In seconds, Dominic and I took flight, running for our lives. Only this time, we weren't fast enough to disappear. Star, Max and the others were already hot on our tails. I grabbed for one of the bags on Dominic's shoulders, plunging it onto my own. The broken wrist no longer mattered, it could hurt as much as it wanted, because I know longer cared. As long as I had both legs intact, I stood a chance. I grabbed a spear from Dominic.

"Split up!" I shrieked. We did, diverting off left and right. I took the route heading off into the right, fleeing through the grass like a fox being chased by hunting dogs. I didn't have time to be frightened or panicked. The only thing I could conjure up was that I needed to run. Star shouted orders for everyone to also spit up into threes, and of course, Star gave chase to me. She was the alpha in the pack, and since I heard Max's voice disappearing in the distance, I thought of him as the second in command. I zigzagged constantly, hoping to lose them, but they were too smart for that. Before I knew it, I was at the face of the cliff.

The pack wasn't far behind, and I knew that all I could do was climb up. I had to rick it with one hand and rely on the memory when Stanley helped me climb the beams back at the Training Center. Stabbing my spear into the rocky wall high above my head, I hoisted my light weight up. I stuck the toes of my boots into the holes of the wall, and used the spear to pull myself up. I dared to use my wrist, and as much as it hurt, I pulled through and got myself to climb faster. _Pull myself up, plant my feet, stab the spear high. Pull myself up, plant my feet, stab the spear high. Pull myself up, plant my feet, stab the spear high. _And then I screamed.

In the calf of my right leg, something sharp tore through my flesh. The pain shot through my entire leg, and in the shear panic of it all, I found myself dangling by one hand on the spear. My legs thrashed and I yelled out in fright, seeing the Careers below with a shaky vision. I could also see my blood fall to the ground from my leg, staining the water below. The Careers were lunging knives and daggers at me, laughing at my current position. After just a few seconds, I bit back my screams and pulled myself together, swinging back onto the cliff face. Climbing became more difficult, but I carried on going. _Pull myself up, plant my feet, stab the spear high._

And finally, I pulled myself over the ledge. The Careers booed below me, and one knife actually carried itself all the way up to me. It missed my head by mere inches, landing in front of my face. Without hesitation, suddenly angry but triumphant, I grasped it and waved it in the air.

"Thanks!" I bellowed, and I staggered away with a leg that pulsed my blood free, staining the ground. Up here, the land consisted of no grass or water, just dry, rocky ground. It was good in a way, as it made it easier to move.

"We'll be back, Fox!" Bellowed Star, and I dared to look over the edge. The Careers were running back into the grass, and up here, I saw that they were heading for the horn again. Ahead, the other three were running to meet them, and far away, I saw one single movement in the grass. Dominic was alive, as was I. Injured, yes, but alive. And fury along with hate soured though me, and I knew that this was only the beginning with the Careers.

I managed to stick to my plan to get home before sunset, and I found a nice path way down the cliff face about a mile along from when I climbed. Better yet, this was the place I had fallen to when I crashed after the Bloodbath. I recognised the caves and the pathway in the grass, a reminder of my fall. The sun had just disappeared behind the clouds when I made it to the den, and to my relief, Dominic was already there and waiting, the supplies he had managed to carry piled up against the tree. He had a gash on his neck, but nothing major. As soon as he saw my leg, however, I no longer had the strength to stand. My slit calf caved in under me, and I toppled to the ground, and the last thing I remember was Dominic softening my fall.

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	13. A Quiet Day

__**Next chapter :) Read and review, sorry for any mistakes.**

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><p><em>I was running, racing through the wilderness. My feet propelled me forward, the air smashing into my face in a delicious sense of freedom. My arms moved up and down, helping me move faster, my heart hammering in my chest. My blood was hot under my skin, pulsing in my temples, and my muscles burned with pain. But I carried on running. But I wasn't sprinting for the fun of it, I was sprinting because it was the only thing keeping me alive. <em>

_I could hear snarls ripping the air behind me, sounding completely abnormal. Neither animal nor human. I realized I was crying, pushing myself to keep moving and escape whatever was after me. But then, it was just behind me that was my enemy. The air suddenly felt thick and cold, and then it started to rain. But it wasn't water that fell on me, but blood. Rich, salty blood that was still warm, falling from the heavens. The creatures behind me, whatever they were, howling in pleasure. Within seconds, I was drenched with the sticky human liquid. _

_The ground changed then, and I found myself in tall grass. I couldn't remember where I had seen it. I continued to run, trying to escape the nightmare. But the more I tried to escape, the more horrific it got. Bodies piled up on either side of me, still, white hands reaching for my legs. Eyes that were glassy and lifeless watched me run by. Body parts appeared, scattered all around. The grass came alive, grabbing my legs and knotting me to the ground. I screamed, thrashed and rolled, trying to escape the vinery netting. The more I struggled, the more tangled I got. The unnatural growls came closer, dashing towards my screams. _

_I looked up, squinting against the blood pouring down on my face. What I saw was glistening white fangs plunge into my face, tearing my facial features away. Something hacked at my leg, shook my entire body and jolting every bone I possessed. The tearing of fabric pierced my ears, deafening my screams. The last thing I saw was a pair of glowing yellow eyes, staring right at me, before I felt my neck snap from powerful jaws. _

I bolted upright, screaming my head off. Retching sobs pulled free from my throat, my body trembling with fear. My good hand went to feel my face and neck, making sure they were intact. All was fine aside from my leg, which made me scream louder. Through the noise I was making, I heard shuffling through the air, and it took me a moment to realize I was in some kind of underground tunnel. I began to rock back and forth, hiding my face in my knees as I cried. Someone touched my shoulder and my body jerked into the wall, shouting out with terror. I lashed out, doing all I could to protect my body and face. The creatures were back, back to finish the job and tear me to shreds, like the sheep from so long ago. They were going to snap my neck and mangle my leg and rip me apart!

"Coco, Coco!" a voice shouted above my screams. I yelled louder, and didn't stop when I realized I was being held in to protective hold. I sobbed loudly, trying to focus on the shushing sounds being made above me. "It's okay, it's okay." The voice said, and it was all I could do to listen to it.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of madness, normality found me. The voice became recognisable as Dominic. I took deep, long breaths, trying to remember when I was and pinpoint what was real and what was nightmarish. It was all a nightmare, but the reality had a bigger sense of normality. I collected my thoughts, and I finally was able to think straight. I was in the Hunger Games, the youngest tribute, and I was inside a den the Gamemakers had created for me. Nine tributes were dead, including Stanley, but Loki was still alive. I had formed an alliance with a boy called Dominic Thresher, and I had an enemy called Star. She was Career. And, most of all, I was still alive and still playing the Games.

"You're okay." Dominic whispered into my hair. I listening to his voice, remembering what had happened with the Careers. The con, the chase, the climb and the attack on my leg. Everything pieced itself together, and I went limp in Dominic's hold while silence consumed us.

"My leg, they cut my leg..." I whispered, clenching my eyes shut.

"It's bandaged, it wasn't that deep." He murmured. He pushed me back, examining my face.

"What time of day is it? How long have I been out?" I asked in a hurry.

"Just a day." He answered. He paused for a moment, thinking. "Thought you were a goner at one point though." He reached behind him and grabbed the water bottle, putting the cap to my lips. I drank thirstily, parched.

"I need to get out of here." I whispered, licking my lips. Before he could protest, I clambered to my feet and limped my way to the exit of the den, dragging myself out against the dirt. But, just as I managed to free myself from the tight underground, I froze in place. A cannon blasted, the echoes cracking the air. A second later, another followed. Dominic was by my side in an instant, staring into the sky around the tree trunk. Two more tributes had just been declared dead.

"Loki." I whispered, terror ripping up inside me. Was he one of them? Had he just been killed? Or was he the killer? What had become of him?

"Watch the sky." Dominic told me. it was already twilight, and that meant that the anthem would play soon.

Sure enough, about half an hour later, the arena blasted out the music of the Capitol. I willed it to hurry up, needing to see who was dead. When it showed up, I was relieved, but far from happy. One was a girl from Eleven and the other was a girl from Six. They faces lit the sky for a few seconds each before plunging us into darkness.

"That leaves just ten of us now." Dominic said. Ten?

"Who else?"

"Both from Nine, and the boy from Seven." He told me. "The cannons went off just after you passed out yesterday." Ten of us left... that number was dangerously low. The majority of that ten were the Careers. In fact, aside from me, Dominic, Loki, and who must have been the girl from Eight, they were Careers. Four commoners, with little experience, against six Careers, who had trained for the majority of their lives for this. And I hadn't even seen the other two, Loki and Eight. What if they were in a battle of their own? What if they were killing each other right now? But I couldn't afford to think like that. The bottom line was, he was still alive, and he had a better chance at getting home than me. A better chance at getting home to Myth and marrying her.

"Here." Said Dominic, and he tossed me an apple. I caught it, meeting his eyes. I tried to stand straight, lifting my injured leg from the ground and I did. The pain was scorching hot up the back of my calf, but I did my best to ignore it. Dominic watched me carefully, analysing my movements. When he was confident with my movement, he reached back to the tree. I realised that he had placed the sword and two spears against it, with the two backpacks resting on the ground next to them. He got the weapon in a firm grip before he smiled at me.

"We can't keeping living on apples, Coco. We need some good, fresh meat." He said. I limped to the weapons, and he caught my arm. "And you're staying here." He added.

"Why?" I demanded stupidly.

"Because you're useless on that leg, and besides, you already got us the weapons. Let me get the food." He answered. I couldn't exactly argue, so I huffed in annoyance, cursing the Careers yet again. He laughed at my expression. "I won't be long."

"Are you going to the jungle?" I asked him.

"Yes, so my estimate is that'll I'll be gone for about four hours." He answered. A thought came to mind, both sickening and hopeful. I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"If you see Loki... don't kill him." I murmured. He looked at me for a moment. He sighed then.

"I'll tell him you said hey if he doesn't try and kill me." he told me, and then he left, leaving me alone. I watched him vanish into the grass for a moment before I slumped against the tree, sliding to the floor. My leg shook violently and painfully, making me grit my teeth. It was then, for the first time, that I realized my wrist wasn't on a support, as that was also deciding to be a pain yet again. I looked around for my jacket, and I found it stuffed in one of the bags. A huge tear ran up the back of it. I recalled the knife that the Careers had practically given me, and how it landed in front of my face. That must have been the cause. I also still had the two daggers in my best, and the new one was also in a bag. I thought of all the weapons we had. Two spears, a sword, a spiked glove and three daggers. Not a lot to complain about.

I had nothing to do but munch on apples and drink water. We had two bottles now, one from each bag, and the original was nearly empty. In the new bag, I also found a sleeping bag, a pack of dried fruit and some binoculars. The binoculars reminded me of an item I had found in the first bag on the first day for some reason, and I rummaged to find it. The mirror on the thin, long handle. I looked at it quizzically, looking at my reflection. My hair was coated in dust, looking almost like the colour of the grass and dusty ground. I shook my head, and dust pieces flung out. My right cheek was grazed, the top layer of skin missing, but that didn't hurt at all. I also had horrendous bags under my eyes. But what frightened me about my reflection was not the state I was in, but how haunted my brown eyes looked. Haunted with the dead. I wanted to throw the mirror away, but I needed to find out its use. It didn't take me long.

It was one of them things that enabled you to look around corners without revealing yourself, or looking above a ledge when below it. Very useful for the den should the occasion come that it gets invaded. With that sussed, I grabbed the second spear and held it sideways against my body, arming myself effectively. I didn't want to go below ground again, not yet. So for a while I sat and watched the moon shine and the stars twinkle, and for the first time since being here, I felt at peace.

But all too soon, the peace faded and I recalled where I was again. To get a sense of closure, I climbed the tree, but ten times slower with my bad leg. I couldn't make it to the top branches, so I settled for the runner ups. I lay on my front, letting all four limbs dangle, and watched the night roll by.

I wondered if a camera was watching me at this moment. Most likely not, seen as I wasn't doing much. But I thought about when they probably had been on me. Like at the bloodbath, watching me snag the bag and daggers. And then probably my descent down the bank, cutting back and forth as I made my way to the den for the first time. The night me and Dominic encountered one another for the first time, with my night to his throat. They would have loved that. Maybe they showed my rescue mission, but maybe they focussed on the other tributes by that point. But the previous day, aside from the deaths, I bet I was the face of the day. They probably found it hilarious when I tricked Max, and then even funnier when I dangled from the spear like a marshmallow over a fire. But even the stars of the show got boring at times, so maybe, right now, I had some privacy.

I pondered about what they thought about my alliance with Dominic. The Capitol and families alike. What were my family thinking, what were Dominic's thinking? Were the Capitol betting on who turned on who first? Oh, I bet they were having a blast with this scenario!

And then it came to the real question. How was I still alive? In past years, the youngest tended to be the first ones to go down, even the Careers youngsters (but not all). And I had been the youngest out of the twenty four tributes, mingled with kids fourteen and older. It was hard to comprehend, and again, hardly seemed fair. And I felt hope stir inside me, that maybe I could make it. It Loki didn't (as painful as that thought was), maybe I could. Myth deserved at least one of us to come home.

Hours passed, more than four at that. I wasn't worried, because I could see the Cornucopia from here. The Careers had returned and the light had gone out, and a cannon hadn't blasted yet. Dominic was still alive. I tried to think of how long we had been here. This was the fourth night. I had made it through three days, and considering I thought I was going to die in the bloodbath, that was amazing.

It was when dawn emerged that I began to feel uneasy. There had been no sign of Dominic all night, and as soon as the sun rose, the Careers were up and leaving for the hunt. I stayed deathly still in the tree as they left, because they were heading towards my tree rather than the jungle. But luckily, they turned right before they were able to make me out in the tree. Deciding it was no longer safe, I descended from the tree and went below ground, dragging the supplies in with me. I went further inside, crawling past about four tunnels on either side, turning left at the fifth. It was nice and cool again down here. All I could do now was wait.

More hours, more anxiety. I became restless, even the pain was unable to keep me still. Where was he? Was he alright? Had he been attacked? It was at the point that my stomach coiled continuously, making me feel sick with nerves. And about another two hours passed before I decided I needed to look for him. But as I made my way to leave, there was shuffling. I froze, waiting, and I heard a moan of pain at the entrance. Oh no...

I crawled as fast as I could, and I found Dominic at the opening. I choked. He was lying there, his clothes torn, his face bloody. I stared at him, tears stinging my eyes, and he said my name. I clambered over to him, and to my horror, my hand felt in a pool of warm, sticky blood that slithered down the slope. I choked on another sob and dragged him in, and that was when I saw the dagger imbedded below his lower abdomen.

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	14. The Darkest Hour

**Chapter Fourteen now up! Warning, from now on the story may be a lot darker and twisted... just as the Hunger Games would be :P You've been warned!**

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><p>There had been many teary deaths in the past Hunger Games. So many that gripped the hearts of thousands. On occasion, allies would form a bond like no other, and fight it out side by side. But then when the time came to kill one another, it was heart retching. And then there were the allies where the two tributes formed a slight romance, but that was rare. Many died together when attacked, others would kill their friends so as to get it done and over with. It was sickening in the Games and outside of them, and this year, I knew it was the alliance between me and Dominic that would strike hard. A twelve year old girl weeping over a fourteen year old boy.<p>

There was nothing I could do. He was going die, but it was a matter of when. The dagger was wedged in deep, so pulling it out meant he would bleed to death in minutes. But leaving it in would perhaps give him a few extra hours, maybe a day. The kind thing to do was pull it out and let nature do the rest, but Dominic begged me not to in ragged breaths. I had gone for the handle, willing myself to yank it out while I had the decency, but he smacked me away and dragged himself away from me. He knew that his time in the Games was up, too, but he wanted to cling to what life he had left and endure it to the fullest. It was horrific, and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and dissolve into nothing.

Right now, I had his head to my chest, stroking his dark hair and crying silently. We were both deep in the tunnel, his blood a trail for any tribute to follow. We were further than where I was while waiting for him, disappearing into the child's maze. I didn't care anymore if someone found us: at least they could put us both out of our misery. With what energy he had, he made quiet noise of pain, small gurgles in the back of his throat. After hours of being down here, he gradually deteriorated in my arms. I had had to drag him to where we currently were, draining me completely. The only thing I could offer him now was company in his dying hours.

When he still had the strength to tell me what happened, I pieced together the events through slurred words. He had been on his way back from the jungle, trekking through the thickets with two dead rabbits on his belt. He had been pleased with himself, and was looking forward to having some fresh meat for breakfast. He was going to teach me how to skin it and gut them, should I have to fend for myself. But he never saw her, the girl from Eight, following him. She pounced on him from behind, trying to snag the game, but he tried to fight her off. He said she looked mad with hunger. He'd punched her away from him, not wanting to use the spear on her out of pity, but he never saw the dagger in her hand, not until it was wedged in his gut and she released it. When he fell, she'd grabbed the meat and took off. And, for the following hours, he dragged himself back to me. He didn't want me to think he'd abandoned me.

The skin under my t-shirt was warm with his blood, the fabric clinging to me. At a glance, you would think it was me who was injured. I couldn't see his face. It was too dark down there, so I clung onto his breathing and relished the softness of his hair. It was amazing how attached I had grown to him over the course of over a week. Pathetic, really, but from the beginning I knew I wasn't going to be able to get rid of him. Nor Stanley had he survived the first day. They'd had their eyes on me since the parade. Why? That was something I would never know. Curiosity? Admiration for my strength? Perhaps pity, because I was so young? Who knew? Either way, they had buried themselves under my skin like parasites, refusing to let go. And now, both of them were laying their deaths inside me, forcing me to carry the guilt and grief forever.

I tried to feed Dominic some chopped apples and give him water, but he couldn't open his mouth for long enough, never mind chew and swallow. I couldn't eat them either, because I knew that they'd only come straight back up. I had cried myself out, my eyes stinking angrily, but in my mind I was sobbing like a baby. Up there, I was Coco, the real me, whereas on the outside I was a girl the Capitol had created. Have a cry here and a sniff there, but nothing over the top when it came to a death. That would mean I was weak. And being weak meant no sponsors. But that didn't mean I could stop the feeling of wanting to die with Dominic, just to escape this nightmare. But, knowing that some night vision cameras would be spying on us, I had to continue with the double act.

But, in my darkest hour, a darker side of me emerged. A vengeful side of me that shouldn't exist. It was well known for the tributes to take a twisted turn, descend into madness. The pressure of the Games would become too much, and on some occasions, tributes would die in their own insanity. But others simply wanted revenge. Revenge for the deaths of allies, revenge for the horror against the Games. And some wanted revenge against the Capitol, but because they couldn't reach them, they took it out on the other tributes. But in my case, I wanted revenge on the girl from Eight. I found myself not caring that she had gone mad herself, and was simply needing something to eat, but I still wanted her to pay for what she did to Dominic. And, even though I didn't want it to be true, I knew that I was now a ticking time bomb. If the Careers didn't kill her, if Loki didn't kill her, I knew I would.

Dominic was slipping away now. I knew now how long he had held on, too. The anthem had rumbled into the wilderness up above many hours before, so my estimate was that it was now well into the night. Perhaps midnight. He had come back to me in the early morning, a few hours after dawn. So he had been down here, dying in my arms, for approximately fifteen hours. Fifteen hours of him dying and myself drowning in my misery. As far as I was aware, no one had died throughout the day. Perhaps they had, perhaps I missed the blast of the cannon, but I knew that Dominic's time was nearing.

His breathing became less and less. He made less painful sounds. And he had even stopped trembling. I hugged him tighter, burying my face in his hair. He even smelt of death now. Very slowly, his touch a feather weight, his fingers tried to grip my arms that were wrapped around his body. I held his hand in my own, assuring him that I wasn't leaving him, not now. He tried to speak, but the words were slurred. I bent my ear down to his lips, trying to catch his words.

"Thank... you." he breathed. He had to say it a few times before I caught his last words. To answer, as my voice had left me hours ago, I kissed his hair and tucked his head under my chin. He clung on for a little longer, but not much. In my hold, he took a deep breath which made him moan in pain, and when he released it, he went limp against me. I continued to hold him and stroke his hair, staring into the darkness of the tunnel. A moment later, I heard the low rumble of the cannon above.

I didn't let go until his body went stone cold. How long that took was beyond my knowledge, but I knew the Gamemakers would be frustrated by now. They would want to send his body back to District 5. But they wouldn't do it out of respect for his family, they just didn't want bodies rotting in their arena. So, gritting my teeth and pushing aside the numbness, I slid my hands under his arms and dragged him to the opening. My leg screamed in protest as did my wrist, but I couldn't find any strength to care. It took me about ten minutes to get him out into the open, under the murkiness of the rising sun. I lay him on his back, and his grey eyes staring lifelessly at the red clouds. I closed them with my good hand, kissed his icy cheek, and stepped into the grass. I looked to the sky, knowing what was to come.

A hovercraft appeared out of the blue, its protective invisible shield vanishing for a moment. A claw came down to earth, slowly and purposely tormenting in my opinion. It disappeared into the opening of the circle, and when it rose again, Dominic was enclosed within. I watched him disappear with the hovercraft, and that was it. I simply blinked with heavy lids and shook my head slowly, stumbling back to the tree.

Nothing registered to me. I couldn't feel any pain, any fear, not even revenge. I couldn't feel anything, and that was worse than pain. My body did the things my brain couldn't concede. I found myself being carried forward by stiff legs, limping heavily. I saw my arms reach for a branch. I felt the muscles in my arms tighten as I pulled myself up. I knew my wrist was angry, but I couldn't care less. I watched my arms find another branch, felt myself being pulled up. I was soon lying on my back on a branch, my arms folded across my stomach, my eyes watching the sun rise. Without thinking, I pulled out a dagger from my belt, staring at the blade and twisting it back and forth.

In the shiny metal, I saw a girl. She looked damaged. She didn't look frightened or angry or sad. Her face was blank. Her skin was very pale, and under her eyes were huge, reddish-black bags, but they looked more like bruises. Her lids looked heavy, her mouth was in a thin, tired line. She watched me with eyes full of ghosts. If I was in any correct state of mind, I would have been scared of her. But I stared back, unfeeling. And then I watched a single tear fall down her cheek from the corner of her eye.

The day went by too fast, and before I knew it, I was thrust back into the night. I hadn't eaten or drank any water all day, and the sun had been exceptionally hot. But I stayed up in that tree all day, staring at the blade or looking up at the sky. This was my way of grieving. I screamed and shouted when I was scared, I acted on impulse when I was angry or in danger, but when it came to grieving, I descended into nothing. I think I stared at Dominic's blood for an hour straight, staining my hands, arms and darkening my already black t-shirt. I think I had some of his blood on my neck, too. I probably looked like a savage. But was there any point in caring anymore?

The anthem played then, deafening me after a day of complete silence. I looked up, seeing Dominic's eyes watching me. He was there for just a moment, but in that moment, it was when I said my final goodbye to him. Once he disappeared, I willed myself to feel again, telling myself I had to let go. I had to remind myself where I was. I had to tell myself that I was on my own now, and that I needed to get a hold of myself.

Once I sussed that out, I fell from the tree, landing with a grunt and yelp when I landed awkwardly on my bad leg. I pushed the pain aside. I looked around the ground and my eyes landed on a fresh looking apple. I robotically told myself to pick it up and eat it. I then fished out some water from the den, opening the full bottle I had stolen from the Careers. I drank until the dryness of my mouth turned moist.

Finally, I resurfaced and grabbed a rough looking rock from the ground. I stared at it for a moment, and then yanked a dagger from my belt. I rubbed the rock back and forth on the blade, sharpening it to the point that the slightest touch would make you bleed. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. I felt rigid in my stance, my teeth gritted. I was feeling some emotion, and it was all negative. Anger, hate, spite. Every bad emotion fell on me like a tonne of bricks, threatening to crush me and break me down, break me into a million pieces that were beyond repair.

Maybe if I didn't have an objective, I would have screamed my head off and ripped my hair out. I would have cursed the Capitol, the Gamemakers and Snow. I would have made them want to kill me themselves. I would have let them. I would have screamed every foul word I knew for their hearing, tell them what myself and everyone else thought. But no, I did have an objective. It was something the normal me wouldn't have never dreamed of doing. But now, after the brutality of Dominic's death, I knew that Coco Blossom was as good as dead. The girl that the Capitol created was all that remained. And I had a job to take care of.

I sharpened all three of my daggers, now scratched and deadly from my rigid hands. I shoved them carelessly in my belt. Grinding my teeth, I strode into the grass. I had no care in the world if the Careers found me, because I had enough fury in me to put up a fight. But, unfortunately, they weren't my targets. I was going to hunt down the girl from Eight, and I was going to kill her the same way she killed Dominic. She would pay. I'd make sure of it.

With that thought, I pulled up a twisted smile. It was both for me and for the cameras that were no doubt tracking me. I slowly pulled a dagger free and coiled my fingers around the handle, securing it in its rightful place. I carried it at my side, the point facing East and glimmering in the sun. My steps were slow and silent, the stride of a hunter.

My smile grew, and I felt myself slip into my own vengeful form of madness. And, to my twisted delight, I had never felt more alive.

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	15. The Hunt

**Chapter 15! Remember, get's dark from here, especially seen as Coco is only twelve! Enjoy!**

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><p>The darkness swallowed me whole, ate me with delicious satisfaction. The shadows of the grass reached for me and devoured me, trying to trap me in their vines. The tip of my blade kissed the strands, tearing them apart with the slightest touch. My eyes were locked ahead, seeing nothing, but locked on one goal. Hunt for Eight, attack her, and rip her life away like she had stolen Dominic's.<p>

I hadn't come across the Careers, but I wish I had. I would have ripped their throats out as revenge, too, because they had made Dominic suffer in his first hours. I longed for their blood to be spilt. They were monsters, monsters who wanted to taunt me and hunt me down. But, when the time came, I would track them down and rip them to shreds if I had to. But that would come later. The longing could wait. It was Eight who needed to die first.

It took me a long time to reach the jungle, and when I did, I felt a sinister happiness envelope me. The trees were tall and looming, and the grass devoured just a third of the trunks below. I could barely see within, but I was able to pick out a fresh looking path within the black shrubs. Broken twigs and cut down brushes was enough evidence. I crouched low at the opening of the jungle, merged between the grass and the thickets. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the gloom, just so I was sure that it was safe to enter. My ears were on high alert, but all I could hear was the chattering of bats and the singing of crickets. Perfect.

Once I entered the jungle, I relied completely on my sense of touch, hearing and smell. I moved as slowly as possible, my arms out to the sides slightly. My fingers brushed trunks and twigs and leaves, and dead leaves crunched under my weight. The air was cool tonight, and through the gloom, I saw my breath dance in front of my face. I hadn't realised how cold it was, because I felt nothing but the need to kill. All I could do was focus on hunting down the girl, and then hunt for the Careers. When Loki was concerned, I didn't know. I didn't care anymore, either. It had been Coco who cared about him, not me. I wasn't her anymore. I was something so much better, and I wanted to prove it to the entire world.

I knew that my sanity was leaving me, dying and rotting away, but I didn't have any energy left to care. The girl I used to be would have tried to cling on to normality, fight against the darkness, but she had never been thrust into a scenario like this. She had been too innocent for this, and I didn't have the patience. She was dead. The Capitol had torn her up and shattered her to pieces, just like they had to all of the districts. That was their aim of the Games, anyway, to ruin the tributes and crunch their souls into nothing. They lived on the misery of others, fed on the angst of the districts, and survived in indestructible bubbles of happiness. But they had seen Coco's misery, watched her heart and soul crumble into dust. Now, they saw me, the girl transformed into a cunning killer. And I was going to give them one hell of a show.

I prowled silently through the gloom, moving in a slight crouch. Should I have to leap, I'd have plenty of time for it. Power was already building in my legs, raring me up for a chase, escape or an attack. I was hoping for a chase, something to get my blood pumping in my veins. Some excitement. You could almost imagine the tension rising should I find her, and I could practically see the audience freezing in their seats, their noses pressed to the screens. Maybe they were doing that now. Maybe they knew what I was up to, and they would know where my victim was. Perhaps I was close. The thought drove me on.

I trekked for hours, and my fears began to arise. The sun would rise soon, meaning I couldn't perform a sneak attack. It would mean that I would have to lay low all day, and then hunt again once darkness fell. The thought angered me, making me grit my teeth. There had been no life at all, well, nothing human. But I needed to find her. I needed to satisfy the hunger in me, relish the bitter sweetness of my revenge. It was a dark, wicked desire that I craved, and I wouldn't stop until I got what I wanted. I refused to starve in my own bitterness. Not yet.

But it was a few hours before sunrise that things got interesting. The arena was slowly lighting, the pitch blackness moulding into a soft navy. I was able to identify single leaves and see the silhouettes of the trees now. And this was the time where animals went silent, as it was the time of twilight, where creatures retreated to bed and others barely beginning to rouse. The silence was delicious. And that was when I heard the voices of humans.

There was more than one voice, which was very irritating. But it was when I recognised them that I thought I should do a bit of spying. Star's voice slinked in the air, low and hissy, and a stutter would be her reply. A wicked grin formed on my lips, and I followed the voices while slinking into the shadows. They were close. So very close. I could smell the deceasing smoke of a camp fire and I could hear the low sizzle of the dying flames. It didn't take me long to find them, so I lay low in a prickly bush and ignored the needles jabbing into my bear arms. The tip of my blade touched my lips curiously as I watched the scene unfold before me.

The Careers had found Eight before I did, but they hadn't killed her. She was a red head, her hair so long that a third of it lay on the leafy ground from when she sat with her legs crossed. Her eyes were indeed wild, the orbs bulging up at Star. She twitched continuously, crunching dead leaves in her fists as if they were a form of distraction. It was very enjoyable to watch, actually. Her squirming was quite amusing.

"Help us find the girl." Star hissed, and in her hand was what looked to be a penknife. How laughable.

"Just kill me." Eight begged, her voice frigid but screechy.

"You killed her ally. There's a chance she'll want revenge. We need a decoy." Star snapped angrily.

"Find her yourself." Eight snarled angrily. As a response, Star lashed out, slicing open Eight's cheek with the penknife. Eight yelped out, clutching her face as blood seeped through her fingers. A second later, Star reached out and grabbed her throat, squeezing hard enough to make Eight wheeze. I heard a moan of disturbance ahead, and I was just able to see a couple other Careers snoozing in the back, Max being among them.

"Listen to me, you little rat." spat Star. "Help us, we'll kill you quickly. If you don't, we will tear you limb from limb."

"I don't know where she is!" Eight squeaked, clawing at Stars hands on her throat.

"No, but we do. You know the apple tree on the other side of the arena?" she asked and Eight nodded. "There's a den there. It's where the boy from Five died."

"So what?" Gasped Eight, biting her lower lip.

"So that means he died with her. The blood goes down into the den. She's in there, but we can't get down there. Lure her out. We'll do the rest." Star said, pulling Eight to her feet by her throat. When Eight stood obediently, Star released her and Eight rubbed her neck vigorously. The two met gazes for a long moment.

"Fine. Just kill me quickly once it's done." She snarled, her entire body twitching. I smiled to myself. _Your death will be far from quick. _I was tempted to throw my dagger there and then at Eight's skull, but I couldn't afford to be found out. I would have to wait. But I was already cooking up a plan.

Once they made their way to the tree, I would keep a safe distance from them. There was the chance of losing track of them, yes, but I was planning on actually ambushing them. I would race for the tree and hide in the lining of the grass. I would wait for them to come by, and no doubt they would send Eight ahead to lure me out of the den. They would wait in the grass, I was sure, and Eight would give them some kind of signal for my appearance. But she would never have time for the signal.

I listened in on the Careers all morning, getting a draft on their plan. They were going to do just as what I had predicted, and their signal would be a shout or scream from Eight. Very basic. There were just four Careers today, meaning that two of them were at the Cornucopia. In Star's presence was Max, a boy from Three and a girl from Two. Max was armed with a spear, of course, and the others had simple knives and swords. Star's was the most pathetic weapon, though. Once they started preparing to leave, I raced for the tree and made it back in an hour, where I waited for their arrival.

It took them two hours, maybe three, to reach me. But I was ready for them. I listened, I watched through the grass, and I had my dagger out and ready. I was pumped with excitement, raring for their arrival. I kept nibbling my lower lip and chewing the insides of my cheeks. I did all I could to avoid looking at Dominic's black blood that stained the ground, knowing that he would be avenged soon enough.

Finally, I heard them. They were quite far out, and it would have been impossible to hear the below ground. And, of course, I heard the rustling that was ahead of them. The dashing through the grass. The race for a quick death. I shrank back a little when Eight leapt into the open, panting and looked more crazed than ever. Her eyes darted around the tree, trying to locate the opening of the den. I knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to make it look like she was being chased, cornered into my home. Had I not known and stayed here all day, I would have probably fallen for the trick. It would have been hard to resist such a tempting offer.

Eight was weaponless, and I knew she would have been stripped of defence once cornered by the Careers. Again, they were making things so much easier for me. Eight darted around the tree, and once her eyes landed on the opening of the den she crouched down. I grinned. I moved a limb, and then I was on her in an instant.

My hands clapped around her mouth before she could give the signal, my fingers sliding into her mouth and to the back of her throat. She choked silently, gagging against my hold. I wrapped my arms around her neck and yanked her onto her back in a unbreakable hold. Her legs thrashed, like the sheep's had when the wolf attacked, as I dragged her body into the grass. Her was very light, meaning she had barely eaten at all since she had been here. I was able to pull her to the bank, keeping her silenced as I moved us quickly away from the scene. If I was going to be satisfied, I needed this to be done without disturbances.

To add to the girl's pain, suddenly blinded by rage, I tried to stuff my entire fist in her mouth. I could feel her jaw jolt in protest as I demanded my fist inside, silencing any scream of pain she tried to release. I dragged her down the bank and to the river, and once there, I plunged her into the water. Her head smacked against a boulder, delivering a nasty sounding crack. She fell into the water for a moment, and when she tried to stand, she wobbled on her feet. Blood gushed from her hairline, pooling over her eyes, nose and lips. She must have been seeing double vision, because when I approached her, she was reaching more to the right of me. I barged my body into her, sending her back into the water.

I jumped on her, my dagger kissing her neck. A handful of hair was in the fist of my good hand, and I yanked her head back.

"Why did you kill him? Why did you make him suffer?" I snarled, my voice ripping in my throat. Her emerald eyes met mine, lazy looking but still insane. Her lips moved, but no words came. In anger, I slammed her head back into the back, smacking it against the pebbles below. When a yelp escaped, I yanked her back up. "Tell me!"

"I was... so... hungry." She stuttered.

"You should have got your own food." I growled. She gave a shaky, breathless laugh.

"That wouldn't have been any fun." She whispered. In response, I released her hair and slashed her face with my nails, much like I had with Max. But, because I had a close, calculated angle, I tore through all the layers of flesh and deep into her cheek. Blood pooled out in a rush, staining my hands. I gathered hair back into my hand.

"It took him fifteen hours to die." I said. She whimpered, crying with pain. "You deserve the same." Her eyes were trained on mine, and for a long time she said nothing. But when she did, it would be the last thing she ever said.

"Madness... is the answer to... all... our problems." She whispered. But then her eyes bulged out at me then, and blood began to pour out of her mouth. Her orbs left mine, travelling down her body to her abdomen, where my sharpened dagger was embedded. My hand was still holding onto the handle tightly, and I was in a battle with myself as to whether to pull it out or not. Leaving it in would give her a long, painful death, but her madness would be enough to blind it. Gritting my teeth, I yanked it out, blood spattering on my face. I let her head drop into the water as she gave out some gurgling gasps, her body jerking violently. She watched me with draining eyes, her hands clutching the wound in her abdomen. I watched the blood spill over her body, staining the water and travelling down the river.

"Madness didn't solve your problems, though, did it?" I asked her, but she never answered me. She coughed up more blood, her body giving one final spasm, before all life left her. I felt no remorse, no regret. Actually, a smile curved my lips. I wiped my knife on the strands of the grass, wiping it clean. I could hear the shouting of the Careers, the pounding of their feet above the bank. Star was shouting for Eight, her voice infuriated. I grinned and looked back at Eight's body.

_I'll find you before you find me, Twinkle Toes._

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><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	16. Insane Reality

**Chapter 16! This is from Loki's point of view, thought I'd try a new angle... yeah. Sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy.**

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><p>Loki watched everything, saw Coco kill the girl from Eight. He had been at the top of the cliff, looking over the edge subtly. He wished he hadn't, because what he saw was horrific. He couldn't hear anything said because of the pounding in his ears, his heart racing in a panic. He felt sick, had the massive urge to throw up over the ledge. Coco, the twelve year old girl he saw as his little sister, had just brutally killed a girl who was at least five years older than her. She'd stumbled with the girl in his grasp, her fist shoved in her mouth, before lunging her into the river and splitting her head open. The twelve year old had then interrogated the girl from Eight, and when she got the wrong answer, she slashed the girl's cheek open with her nails. More words had been exchanged, and then the water change from clear liquid to a bloody river, and the cannon confirmed the death.<p>

Loki had never been more terrified. This girl had gone insane. This little girl who he loved dearly had gone mad. Coco, the girl who had wept at the weeping and final night at the Capitol, was now a ferocious killer. What would Myth think of her, what would her family think of their daughter after what she had become? Was it possible to love her anymore, after this murderous scene? He knew that his little friend was long gone, drowned into a world of darkness in her mind. He also knew the reason why. The boy from Five, who died a couple of days ago. Loki knew that the boy had been her ally, even if no one had told him. He'd seen the two talking in hushed voices back at the Training Centre, and although he felt slightly betrayed by Coco, it was probably for the best. And now he was dead, and Coco was vengeful.

She had been through hell, too, over the course of their time in the arena. From his location, Loki saw the child's wrist, twice its normal size under a bandage. She also had a heavy limp and a grazed cheek, and it was a wonder how she was still alive and fighting. She was heavily armed, too, with three daggers, one of which she used to kill the girl from Eight. How had she gotten hold of three daggers? No, how was she still _alive_? Not that he was unhappy about it, but he had seen the Careers work. They were brutal and felt no remorse. They'd killed the majority of the tributes already. They had a tendency to torture their victims before they actually killed them, and he had tracked them for long enough to know that they were hunting Coco. In the last few days, the boy from Two had gotten four slashes down his cheek. He'd wondered where'd they'd come from, and now he knew. Coco had had some conflictions with these tributes already, and apparently, she was stronger enough to escape.

In his chest, Loki felt his heart tear apart. If Coco was to win, she would never be seen the same way again when she got home. Her family would probably be frightened of her, the citizens of Ten would neglect her, and she would have nothing left. And then she would have the Victory Tour to deal with, where she would have to show her face in District 8. She was more likely to die faster if she won and got out of the arena. Maybe the arena was the only place she could be safe now.

Loki hadn't gone without a kill or two, either, but he killed his victims quickly and out of pure self defence. He'd taken the girl from Six, who had ambushed him in the jungle and came at him with a hammer. Before she had time to slam it into his skull, he'd reacted and slammed his axe into her gut. She was dead in seconds. And in the Bloodbath, a boy from Four came at his with the spiked gloves, hoping to beat him to death, but Loki killed him with an axe to the back. These two kills were deliberate, but the guilt Loki carried with him was unbearable. Unlike Coco.

She was grinning at the body in the river, listening to the voices of the approaching Careers. Blood was smeared on her face, and she wiped it away with her arm. Once the voices grew louder, she dashing back into the grass, diverting the Careers in a arc. She had never looked or acted more fox like. Not even when she looked the part or acted it. She was now the real thing. The creation of the Capitol. And if Loki knew any better, she was running off to plot a plan against the Careers. Loki watched the Careers leap into the opening, and when they saw the girl's body, the ring leader screamed in fury. Star, Loki believed her name was. But as he watched, he did his best to push aside the sound of his heart and listen in.

"The little brat killed her!" Star shrieked, attempting to pull her hair out.

"How could she do _that_?" demanded the boy from Two, thrusting his hand in the direction of the body.

"Revenge makes us do mad things." Said the girl from Two, a girl with bloody blonde hair.

"I bet it was the boy, the Loki kid." Said a member of District 3, a scrawny boy with red hair. Star looked at the body, thinking with a nasty scowl on her face. After a few moments, her team watching her nervously, she cracked a malicious looking smile.

"No, it was her. Foxy has come out to play." She snarled. Loki's stomach churned slightly. Even if Coco had gone insane, he refused to let these kids lay a finger on one single hair on her head. He wouldn't allow it, even if the child could take them on. When the Careers moved out for the hunt, Loki stood up so fast that his head spun. He had to find her. He had to warn her. He had to do something!

But then, out of nowhere, a parachute fell to the ground ahead. This was his third gift since being here. The other two had been some bacon rashers (he had been short on food for the first few days), and the some rope. At the Bloodbath, Loki had only managed to snag an axe and nothing else. After killing the boy from Four, he'd ran for cover. The first few days he managed by just living on water, but shelter and food became a problem. There were little places to lay low in on the ground, and his only option was up. However, he had nothing to secure himself with. So the rope came to him on the first night after he climbed the tallest tree, and the rashers came a couple of days later. Once he perfected hunting animals, he got by pretty well. So he wondered what this first gift was.

Running over to pick it up, he snatched it and tore it open with trembling hands. Inside a medium sized box was a single apple, a red one at that. Loki frowned, taking it out of the box and staring at it. Cian wouldn't send food to him unless he was absolutely desperate, and even if Loki was underweight, he wasn't starved. What was with the apple? But when he looked back inside the box, he found a note.

**_Make her remember who she is. _**That was all it said, and Loki knew it was Cian's words. He wasn't allowed to send gifts, so the apple must have been from a sponsor. He looked around, frowning deeply, until his eyes landed on a certain tree in the distance. There was something peculiar about it, something that was staring him straight in the face but could not place. He edged to the cliff edge, squinting. That was when he could see red in the tree, and it was recognizable as an apple tree. He thought carefully, and his mind led him back to the Training Center. Coco had had a craving for apples. There was an apple tree here. That was where she was. That was where he had to go.

Loki stuffed the note and apple back in their box, and he then tied the parachute around his wrist. He searched for a place to descend from the cliff, and he found one just about a mile away from his location. And as he walked, he realised he was following a black substance, which was easily seen as dried blood. Just blobs of it here and there. He followed it until it descended down the cliff face, following an odd the path that was awkward to travel on. But this was where the blood led him, and his gut told him that the blood was Coco's. From her leg wound when it was fresh. Sure enough, when he jumped to the ground, the blood travelled into the grass.

Ten minutes was all it took on a power walk. The blood had disappeared half way, but he guessed where he was going. And when he reached the tree, a pang of fear hit him. This was Coco's hideout, and from what he could tell, he had dragged that girl for miles. He could see the broken and bent grass strands, and they headed more towards the Cornucopia than the river. He followed the path for a moment, and it zigzagged constantly, signifying a struggle. Of course there had been a struggle, Coco had been trying to stuff her fist down the girl's throat for Christ's sake! He could feel the panic and the fury of what the girls had suffered, the nightmarish situation they had both found themselves in. The panic, the anger, the fear and the madness. It piled on his shoulders like a tonne of boulders. He felt like he could actually be crushed by the weight.

He found the circle of the tree even eerier. Blood scattered everywhere, from a huge pool to a wide range of splatters. What the hell had happened here? The platters were fresh on the ground, and he cautiously followed them around the tree. And then he found the opening of the den, which symbolized a fox's den. A black pool stained the ground at its entrance, and a trail of dried blood disappeared into the black hole. This blood was days old. This must have been where the boy from Five had died. What was his name? Dominic? Yes, Dominic. Loki swallowed the sickening twist in his gut at the thought of that boy bleeding to death, and Coco having to endure it.

As Loki looked around, there was signs of struggles. The blood splatter was the most obvious, but there was skidded foot tracks and claw marks in the ground. And then there was the huge parting of the grass, forced and urgent. It wasn't one from Coco's attack. This was fresher, somehow. The energy of the haste still remained. Still looking around, trying to indicate what life had been like here, the only sense of comfort was the apple cores that were dotted around the place. The rest was just a scene of horrors. But no cannon had blasted, so Coco was still alive and at large.

Seeing no other choice, he followed the escape route. He knew now that the Careers had hunted Coco down and attacked her, and that there had been a desperate struggle. Who was more injured, though? Who was dying and who was thriving? As he followed the trail with care in his footwork, a story began to unfold.

There had been a lot a running. Some falls. And some lost supplies. He came across a green bag at a point, full with a few weapons, a sleeping bag, binoculars, dried fruit and a bottle of water. It was a heavy load, and he knew it didn't belong to the Careers. This had once been in Coco's grasp. He found it a way off from the trail, so she must have clung it away to relieve the weight. The trail went on for far too long, and when it began to thin out, dusk was starting to fall.

He heard her before he saw her. Well, not her, but the scraping of metal. He swallowed and crouched low, and he found himself at another tree, this one filled with pears. He moved as quietly as possible, using his fingers to part the grass in his wake. And what he saw was worse than seeing the madness.

Coco was slumped against the tree on the ground, scraping away at one of her daggers with a rock. Her movement were rigid, angered. But it wasn't what she was doing that was terrifying. It was her appearance. Covered in fresh blood, her own blood. Her arms were covered in bleeding scratches as was her face, four claw marks scraping down the middle of her face. Her short hair was in so many lugs that they would have to be cut out manually. She suffered from a claw mark down her throat, glistening red in the dimming light. Her t-shirt and trousers were worn now as rags, practically. And at her feet was something animalistic and as good as dead.

A fox, only it wasn't the normal kind from back home that attacked the sheep. No. This one was a muttation. A creature created by the Capitol. Its eyes were open with glassy covers, and they were the colour crimson. Its lower jaw looked to be dislocated, hanging open much wider than normal. Its claws were twice their normal sizes... well, the entire animal was twice the common size. The fur was also redder than normal. And, in its shoulder, a dagger was wedged in its body.

"Good god." Loki whispered before he could stop himself. He regretted it for a moment, because Coco was suddenly on all fours, her limbs spread out and her dagger ready for use. When their eyes met, all he could see was fire. Fire burning away her soul. Her blood dripped to the ground, some falling into the mutt's fur. Coco, the girl who was once so loving and kind and friendly, once Loki's little sister in a sense, was now terrifying him. She had a look to kill. She looked ready to kill him. And all he could do was follow his instincts and pull his axe free, which often lived on his belt, and hold it ready for an attack.

Back at the parade, the fox and wolf had a friendship. But here, in the arena, the wolf meeting the fox could mean the difference between life and death.

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><p><strong>Please <strong>**review, would mean a lot :)**


	17. Mirrored

**Chapter 17! Thanks again for the reviews, love reading them! I tried to correct the mistakes this time, so sorry if I missed any... Enjoy :)**

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><p>A tribute. A tribute was here to kill me. I couldn't see clearly; my blood blurred my vision. But the tribute was male, lurking in the grass and stalking me. My guess was that he was one of the oldest, the more skilled kind of tribute. And he was here to end my life. The weapon was out, an axe, poised up and ready to strike. <em>Career, Career! Kill the Career! <em>This had to be a Career, one that Star had sent out to look for me. It was one obstacle after the next! The girl from Eight, the mutt, and now a Career! I had to kill him!

I lunged for his throat, shrieking furiously. My legs propelled me upwards into a sprint, and I raced for him in a fit of rage. My arm was raised, the point of my blade aimed for his neck. _Kill, kill, kill! _I was too quick for him to retaliate; locking eyes with him through what vision I had was enough to distract him. He had cringed back, trying to divert my attack, and the first thing I did was disarm him. Then I dragged him away from the grass, thrashing at his face and screaming in a fit of fury. I heard the clang of the axe as it landed out of both our reach.

At first, it was a brawl on the sandy ground. Kicking, punching, scratching and biting on my part. The tribute merely tried to block my advances, successfully knocking the dagger from my grasp. So I rethought, and pinned myself above him and locked my hands around his throat. _Die, damn it, die! _My weeping blood fell on his face, into his mouth. Maybe I should have been dead with so much blood being lost, but killing this Career was more important. I crushed his voice box, loving the sound of his pain. He wheezed and yelled and begged through a strangled voice, but he just wouldn't die!

In a split second, I yanked one of my daggers from my belt and went to plunge it in his chest. But, unfortunately, he still had the ability to focus. He caught my wrists in both of his hands, keeping the tip away from his chest and throat. _Push, push, push! _I tried to push down against his strength, but the dagger remained frozen in between us. But then, with one final demand to push down, I was flying through the air. A pain so hot boiled in my gut, and I was lost for breath when I hit the ground. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe! I curled into a ball, wheezing and desperately trying to gather some air into my lungs. But the Career was on top of me, straightening out my body and holding the axe to my neck.

All sense came back to me, and all of a sudden I was breathing in double speed. I was still working blindly, the Career's face still unfocussed, but I pulled out my last dagger and held it up to his neck. He grunted, stiffening, and the both of us were suddenly rigid. Sizing one another up. A grin twisted my lips, and a strained giggle fell from my lips.

"Go on, I dare you." I spat, laughing lowly. The Career said nothing. "Chop of my head." I put pressure on his neck, and the edge of the axe kissed my throat. "Go on, you know you want to."

"Hardly." Said the Career, his voice rough with exhaustion and anger. Hardly? So that was how he wanted to play? Pull me into a false sense of security? How thick did he think I was? I was angry, and we listened to the rough grinding of my teeth for a second.

"Go on, chop of my head and take it to her. She'll love that. She'll have it displayed back at District 1 in her bedroom." I snarled viciously. More pressure went on both of our weapons, acting in unison.

"Who? Star?" asked the Career.

"Well, _duh_!" stupid idiot. Suddenly, he barked out a laugh. I froze for a moment, my blind eyes widening at the familiar sound.

"You know, kiddo, you've gathered some guts, even if you have gone round the bend." He said. Kiddo. _Kiddo_. Someone I loved always called me that. Someone who was here in the arena with me. But nothing came to me.

"_Just do it!_" I screamed, suddenly more disorientated than what I already was.

"I'll do it if you do it, kiddo." He answered. That word again. That word kept yanking at my mind. Kept distracting me.

"Stop saying that!" I yelled, adding a little more pressure on the knife. I was so close to breaking the skin it was unreal.

"What? Kiddo? Do you prefer Foxy or... Coco?" he demanded, his voice almost mocking. A growl ripped from my throat, and in a flush of wrath, I brought up my knee and slammed it into his gut. He took in a harsh gasp and rolled off of me, coiling into a ball similar to mine from just minutes earlier. I moved in on him quickly, dragging myself on the ground, and grabbed a fist full of hair, yanking his head back.

"Don't call me _anything._" I sneered. I teased the tip of the weapon around his neck, along his jaw and up the right side of his face. I was smiling, and then I grinned when he tensed under the touch. "You should have chopped of my head while you had the chance." I whispered, and I lowered the blade to his throat. I was just about to cut through when words barked at me.

"Think of Myth!" he yelled, his voice rough but desperate. Myth... my sister. I paused with the knife, seeing nothing. "Think of her! And Ash, and your parents!"

"Shut up." I murmured.

"What would they think of you now?" he demanded.

"Shut up." I said in a louder voice. I was beginning to tremble.

"This isn't you, Coco." He whispered.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I screeched. I yanked his head up and then slammed it into the ground, sending a jolt through his entire body. He groaned loudly, but he remained conscious. I clambered onto his body, the dagger now behind his ear. "If you don't, I'll rip your face off!" through the blur, I could see his face screw up. He lashed out and grabbed my hair in both of his hands, pulling my face right down to his. I tried to pull away, suddenly frightened, but the harder I fought, the tighter his grip became. And then, my eyes began to focus in very low quality, but I was staring down at pitch black eyes. Eyes as black as coal but as warm as fire. I heard him whisper _remember_, and I did.

My mind went back into my kitchen, back home in District 10. My mother had been treating my twisted ankle, holding ice to it and telling me not to move it. My father had been talking to Ash, jabbering on about how lucky I was to not have been trampled on by the horse. But those were blurred into the background, because I had been focused on my sister talking to a boy in a corner, a radiant smile on her face. I'd listened in to what they were saying, and she kept thanking him over and over about how it was nothing to be thanked for. He had a sheepish grin on his face, too. And then my mother spoke up.

"Young man, would you like to stay for dinner, as a token of thanks?" she'd asked him pleasantly. The boy turned to her, about to protest. "Please, we insist." She'd added quickly.

"Mother makes the best beef stew in the world." I had said, my voice extremely quiet. The boy's eyes met mine, and it was the first time I saw their real colour. Black orbs that pierced through me, but in a good way. He'd smiled and nodded, but not at my mother, but at me.

Half an hour later, we'd sat down for dinner, a footrest under the table for my foot. I'd remained silent for a while, listening in on the inquiries of the boy's life. He'd said his name was Loki Thicket, and he was a wood chopper. Apparently, my father had known his. Myth had then brought up the subject of not seeing him around school, with which he had replied that he was homeschooled. This continued for a while.

"Why are your eyes black?" I'd blurted out as mother began to prepare dissert.

"Coco!" Myth had snapped angrily, scolding me. I'd ignored her, staring intently at this boy called Loki. He merely smiled at me and answered just as casually as he had to all the other questions.

"They're not black, just really dark brown." He'd said simply. I'd shook my head, not liking the answer.

"No, they're black." I'd insisted innocently. Myth continued to scowl at me, but Loki had simply laughed.

"Fine, they're black, and I don't know why." He'd said. I let the topic drop, and his eyes remained black to me ever since. The same colour of black as this Career's, but he wasn't a Career. This was the boy from the kitchen with black eyes. This was the boy who was drawn out at the reaping. This was the boy who came with me to the Capitol. This was Loki Thicket.

"Loki?" I whispered. He released a heavy sigh, and loosened his hold on me.

"Drop the knife, kiddo." He murmured. I obliged without question. I limply fell from his body, suddenly feeling numb. No pain. No anger. No nothing. I felt just like I had after Dominic's death. I dragged myself to the tree, slumping against it and staring at the boy's blurry figure on the ground. He moved so that he was on his hands and knees, his face in my direction. I wiped my face, my eyes, trying to clear my vision. I dug the palm of my good hand into the sockets, clearing them of blood. Once I could see clearly, it was indeed Loki who was on the ground. His hair mussed, his face now revealing bruised from my punches and scratches, and his lips were slightly parted. His face of mix of pity, despair and worry. I realised I was trembling, my arms wrapped tightly around my legs and locking them to my chest. I was rocking on my heels, tears streaming down my face. I nearly killed him. I nearly killed Loki, my sister's lover, and my somewhat brother. I nearly tore his face off! And guess what? I didn't regret it!

"Coco-" he whispered.

"That's not my name." I said, my voice oddly steady despite the lump in my throat.

"Oh course that's your name." Loki said, frowning. I merely shook my head. "Come on, don't be ridiculous."

"Coco is dead!" I bellowed suddenly. Loki flinched from my outburst. "She's dead! Just like Stanley and Dominic and all of the other tributes!"

"I don't understand..."

"I am not Coco! I'm nobody!" even I couldn't make sense of what I was saying, never mind him. But the words kept flowing. "This is me! The girl who was about to tear your face off, _that's who I am!" _

"You're wrong. This isn't who you are." He said simply, his gaze hard on mine. "When you did what you did, you didn't know what you were doing. You were confused. You were..." he tried to cook up excuses, but there was no excuse for my actions. It was said that once you lost your sanity, it was gone forever. Mine was gone forever. How did I know? Because when I killed Eight, I enjoyed it, and when I went to kill Loki, I relished it. Even now, when I knew who it was I was about to kill, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Yes, I stopped, but I had still loved it and I wanted to do it again on someone else. I wanted to feed on the pain of others. I wanted to make them scream in agony. I wanted their blood on my hands. _I wanted to be a monster!_

"I knew _exactly _what I was doing." I snarled. "The girl from Eight? I made her suffer and loved it. And you? I was about to rip you to shreds, and I don't regret trying. I don't regret it!" he remained silent for a moment, calculating, but his face was now twisted with fear.

"You need to sleep, you look like you haven't slept in days." He said quietly. How could he tell? My face was covered in blood. I'd might as well have been dressing up as Satin. It was just another excuse, another lie, he was trying to use to escape the truth. And it angered me to the core that he refused to face the truth.

"This is who I really am." I said through gritted teeth.

"No, I won't believe it." he said, but his voice cracked.

"_Believe it._" I snapped.

"No, Coco." He answered firmly. I let out an angry sob and gripped my hair.

"_I'm not her! Coco doesn't exist!" _I screamed. He covered his ears, shaking his head and refusing to listen. _"This is who I really am!" _I didn't care if I screamed the whole arena down. I didn't care if I lured the Careers or any other mutts. The mutts could come for me all they pleased, tear my flesh from my body and eat my guts, but I would still enjoy killing off some like I had killed the one on my left. I'd give them some fun, let them chase me, let the catch me, but I'd kill several before they devoured me. Only one had attacked me, but I was sure the Capitol had more from where that came from. And the Careers? Hah! They would go down like flies.

I pictured myself as the fox mutt. The twisted version of the one back in the Capitol. The monstrous one. Twice as strong, twice as deadly. A dislocated jaw, wild red eyes, claws that dug into the dusty earth. I could picture it towering over the common fox, the old me, before tearing it to shreds. Its red, bushy tail swishing, uncharacteristic sheiks drowning the whines of pain from the regular. The tearing of fur and flesh rang through my mind. The clanging of blood red fangs blinded me. I could see it so clearly. The mutt would be me, and the fox would be Coco. And the image sent a flurry of excitement through me, seeing the mutt me tear apart the fox me.

"Kiddo, remember who you are." Said Loki, his final attempt to revive Coco. I looked up at him, my eyes having been locked on the dead mutt, and I smiled.

"How can I remember being someone who was never me?"

"Please, Coco, I'm begging you to remember!" Loki said, and he was suddenly in front of me, my face in his hands. "Look in my eyes, remember the girl who first met me. _Be that girl!" _

"I can't. You can't revive the dead." I said. He gave a strangled gasp of agitation. I liked the sound of his discomfort.

"Look at me!" he bellowed.

"I am looking at you." I answered.

"What do you see?"

"A boy from District 10, who happens to be from my district, too." No Loki, no family, just a boy who wasn't a Career, so therefore, wasn't my target. I didn't need to kill him. He could be the Career's kill for all I cared, he wasn't my problem. I was slipping further away from sanity, I could feel it, but in actuality, I was pushing sanity away from me. Things were much easier to deal with when you were mad. Less complicated. It was funny, because the further away it got, the darker the arena fell. I tore my eyes away from Ten's eyes, looking up at the rising moon and smiling. The darkness was the time to hunt. The fox was coming out to play.

"I need to go and kill some Careers." I said simply. Ten took his hands from my face, his face now a mask of disbelief and terror. I stood casually, going around to gather up my weapons in a limp. I kicked the axe to Ten's legs. "You might need that." I said. He stared at me, saying nothing, and I believe I saw tears streaming down his face. That reminded me. I needed to wipe mine away. They were stinging my cheeks.

I picked up a pear from the ground and tore my teeth through its skin, holding it with my mouth as I stuffed my daggers in my belt. It was when I was about to move into the grass that the boy from Ten spoke up.

"The Capitol did this to you, you know." He told me with a quivering voice.

"I know." I answered. Of course they had. That's what they wanted. "There's a den around the other side of the tree. You can go in there for tonight. There's a backpack in there with water. Help yourself. If you don't want to stay or help me, then get lost." And with that, I ventured into the grass.

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><p>What if I wanted to break<br>Laugh it all off in your face  
>What would you do? (Oh, oh)<br>What if I fell to the floor  
>Couldn't take all this anymore<br>What would you do, do, do?

Come break me down  
>Bury me, bury me<br>I am finished with you

Finally found myself  
>Fighting for a chance.<br>I know now, this is who I really am.

- 30 Seconds To Mars.

**I was listening to this song and watching the music video to it, and it inspired some of this chapter. Give it a listen, it's a great song. (By the way, lyrics aren't in the right order) :D**

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><p><strong>Don't forget to review!<strong>


	18. Outsmarted

**Chapter 18 :) A little more graphic, this one, so be warned... Enjoy!**

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><p>The Careers stood at the Cornucopia, Star pacing back and forth in front of the piled up supplies. Her face was flushed with anger in the gloom, her boots scuffing against the ground. Why was she angry? Because she couldn't get her hands on a mangy little kid. A pathetic, weak, frustrating little girl. How had she escaped their clutches so many times? How was she still alive, now in the eight? How was it <em>possible?<em> She had even managed to kill a tribute, and brutally at that! How did that work?

Max was staring down at Star from the top of the Cornucopia, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. Flies were buzzing around his face, lured in by the scratches on his cheek. The wounds, no matter how minor, had gotten infected. Puss oozed out, sticking and carrying a nasty stench of decay. The flies loved it, and it was all he could do to keep from slapping his cheek to rid of them. All he could do was wave his hand around his face, frightening them. Even with the distraction of the flies, he was able to calculate Star's movements and read her agitation. He was worried, because at this rate, her anger would drive her to kill one of her own. Sure, they were going to have to turn on one another eventually, but they needed to rid of District 10 first.

The other four, the girl from Max's district at the two from Three, simply kept an easy eye on their leader, watching her every move. They waited for a command more than anything: doing as they were told ensured longer life. They just wished that she would come up with a plan, because the longer they waited around, the more chance there was for the Gamemakers to speed things along in the arena. They had already caught sight of a muttation, running down the cliff face. They saw it as they went to collect water, an hour after the girl from Eight, Lush, had been killed. They had hunted for the girl in that time, but with no success as she was long gone. But they had seen the creature, a fox like dog, dashing down the cliff face in expertise. It was a horrifying thing to see, and the sounds it had made were bone chilling. The fangs were longer than their fingers, and it was the size as a normal domestic dog. The sight had haunted the girl from Three, Willow, the most, as she couldn't shape the dangling jaw from her mind.

"Hey, Star, got any ideas on what to do yet?" demanded Rix boldly, the boy from Three. He and Lush sat beside one another, and both of them were the ages of sixteen. They both had light brown hair, cut considerably short. Rix maintained a close cut, and Lush owned a haircut that was shorter than the girl's from Ten, thin and scruffy on her head. Both had dark eyes and fair skin, and they both arguably looked like they came from Three. They were the quietest of the six, but Rix was losing patience with the waiting around doing nothing. Granted, he actually had nothing against the kid, but the sooner she was dead the sooner he could fight for his life.

"Shut your face." Star snapped.

"Easy, tiger." Said Cutter, Stars male district tribute who sat on top of the supplies. Star shot him a glare as cold as ice.

"Well hurry up, we're wasting time." Snarled Pip, Max's female tribute who sat at the lining of the grass, her back kissing the strands. "The longer we wait here, the more frustrated the Gamemakers will get."

"Foxy has always been one step ahead of us. For all we know, she's watching us now and planning on what to do next." Star told them, brushing her black hair back from her face. "We have to think things through."

"For all we know, that mutt has left her bleeding to death should it have caught her." Said Lush quietly. It was clear that the mutt was for Foxy personally, and no doubt in the next couple of days, they'd send a wolfish mutt to try and kill off the boy from Ten.

"She'd be dead already." Max said matter-of-factly.

"What if she's laying low for the night?" asked Pip.

"Unlikely." Cutter muttered. "Judging by the way she's working, I don't think laying low is part of her plan."

"Yeah, she's already fooled us three times." Max agreed. "First stealing back Five, then stealing our supplies and escaping, and then killing Eight before she got a chance to warn us."

"You certainly got the wrath of the second, them flies are having a blast." Smirked Rix, earning a look of murder in return.

"Focus!" snapped Star at the two.

"We should go and check out the apple tree again." said Lush. "Maybe I could wedge myself down there and have a look around."

"Or we could search the jungle." Spoke up Pip. "She must have spied on us when we had Eight. How else would she have known to ambush her?"

"We'll split up, cover more ground." Max ordered.

"Fine," said Star lowly. "meet back her at sunrise." On that note, the Careers collected their weapons and split off. Lush, Cutter and Star headed off right towards the apple tree, whereas Rix, Pip and Max went left towards the jungle.

Little did they know that Foxy was already on their tails, tracking them as silently as a mouse. She lurked off after Max's group, staying several meters behind them and relying on her hearing. Bloodied up and in endless pain, she managed to keep her lips sealed and move as stealthily as a cheetah through the grass. She followed the scent of Max's decaying cheek, which hung in the air behind them.

Pip was the smallest out of the Careers, so she was one to constantly lag behind. She also suffered from a sprained ankle, which she had earned from the Bloodbath, and had been limping ever since. She was more for physical combat more so than running. But, despite her weakness, she did her best to keep up, constantly brushing away the beads of sweat falling down her face. She wasn't one to complain, but tonight, the other two were moving ridiculously fast.

"Will you two slow down?" she said breathlessly, trying to drag herself along in the darkness. They two ignored her completely, and if anything, moved on faster. It was clear that they actually wanted to rid of her, because she was only slowing them down. Better she die first, really, because she would never be able to fight on that foot. But Pip wasn't one to give up, so she hobbled along as fast as she could, barely keeping up with them. It wasn't until she heard the knocking of a rock behind her that she froze.

Everything was too quiet, she realized. The closer they got to the jungle, the more the silence became prominent. No crickets in the distance, no hooting of owls and no cries of animals yet to be discovered. Nothing. So the rustle of a rock was unnerving. It had been close, too. Too close. Pip turned in circles, trying to locate whatever made the sound in the black night. It was exceptionally dark tonight: the moon was nowhere to be seen. That made things even more disorientating for poor, poor Pip.

"Guys." She called. They carried on, distancing themselves from her. "Guys!" she tried again, her voice more alarmed. The sound of an icy breath sounded to her left, and then a faint giggle breezed into her right ear. She opened to her mouth to scream for them, but the breath was knocked out of her when she was swept off of her feet. The next thing she knew, a hand was clamped around her twisted ankle, dragging her away in the direction she came from. She could work up a scream as her mouth became full of sandy dirt. All she could do was claw at the ground, trying to still herself, but whoever was pulling her was remarkably strong. Her first thought was that it was the boy from Ten, but the hand felt too small. It was her. Foxy!

Two hands gripped her ankle now and then flipped her onto her back, and a sickening crack pierced Pip's ears. The start of a scream immerged, until a hand clamped her face and a darker figure immerged above her.

"Oops, didn't realize you hurt it." said a mocking, icy voice. "Looks like I've broken it. My bad." Pip began to thrash, but the pain of her ankle was too blinding and she screamed muffled noises against Foxy's hand. "They won't hear you. They want you to die first."

"Let go!" Pip tried to cry, but if was a simple blocked sound that escaped through Foxy's palm. The child giggled harshly above her. Pip heard the sound of metal brushing metal. The then she saw the glistening blade, even in the darkness. "_No, please!" _she pleaded, turning her head sharply and able to release the words.

"Shut your face." Snapped Foxy, mimicking Star's earlier words to Max. A hand went around Pip's neck, blocking any loud sound escaping.

"You were... there, watching... us." Pip wheezed. She heard a soft giggle above her.

"I'm always watching." Whispered Foxy. "Even when you can't see me." and then, wasting no more time, Foxy did a left to right and back again across Pip's throat and slicing halfway through her neck, silencing her forever. Pip was very nearly decapitated, just from the simple movement of Foxy's arm and knife. Her body gave a spasm in death, her bones jolting, before she went still.

A moment later, the cannon blasted, and Foxy was already gone. Seconds later, Max and Rix came stampeding to the scene, and stumbled over Pip's body. Rix fell into a pool of blood, and Max's hand landed on the deep incision of Pip's neck, feeling the rush of blood and layers of flesh. A heave developed in his throat, and he threw up his dinner of beef stew (a gift from a sponsor) all over Pip's body. He clambered to his feet, shaking his hand free of her blood.

"She did it again, she outsmarted us!" cried Rix in fear.

"Shut up!" barked Max, instantly silencing him. "Come on, Foxy! Show yourself!" he then bellowed to no one, his voice echoing through the arena. "Come on! Kill us!" there was nothing for a moment, just a chilling quiet falling between the two boys and the arena. And then, at their feet, came a voice as sweet as flowers but as mocking as a fox.

"Gladly." And the Rix was knocked from his feet, just like Pip, and disappeared into the grass. Max went to lunge for Rix, who yelled out in panic, but the darkness blinded him and he couldn't focus in the sudden turn of events. Rix began to scream, and Max could hear the tearing of his clothes and the slicing of flesh. The sounds were all around him, disorientating him, leaving him in a panic of his own. He then heard a snapping of a bone, and a moment later, the cannon blasted and signified the second death.

"Think fast!" shouted the girl, and then, much to Max's pain and horror, he went blind in his left eye. He yelled and screamed and bellowed in agony, yanking a dagger from his socket. No eyeball popped out, but blood pooled down his face like a waterfall. Only the tip of it had wedged itself in, but as he went to pull it out, he slicing down from his brow and half way down his cheek by accident. Laughing surrounded his ears, towering over his screams, and he expected to see his life shine before his eyes any minute. But the blow never came, and he vaguely heard Foxy's departing words.

"I'll deal with you later." And then, in agony beyond any other, he passed out of the ground.

Elsewhere, Star was racing for the Cornucopia along with Lush and Cutter. They never made it to the tree, and when they heard the first cannon, they thought maybe Max and his group had found Foxy and killed her. But when the second one fired, they knew they had been played.

"That _rat!_" screamed Star in rage, breaking into the opening of the Cornucopia. "Grab what you can, we're going to kill this kid once and for all!" she grasped a spear, axe and sword from the endless pile of supplies, tossing the spear and axe to Lush and Cutter. Lush went to dig out some torches, too, but Star yelled at her not to bring them as they would become bigger targets.

"Rely on senses!" Cutter snapped. Lush cringed but nodded at his silhouette.

"Move out." Said Star and the three separated West, North and East. Lush went for West, heading in the directions that Max's group had gone in, and it took her ten minutes to reach the location of her fallen team. The hovercraft had silently appeared, and Lush could see the vague outlines of two members, but which ones she could not tell. It was when she stumbled over Max's unconscious body that she knew who was the fallen.

"Max, wake up!" she yelled, shaking him and trying to rouse him, unaware of his bleeding socket. "Come on!" she cried.

"Tonight is turning out better than planned." Hissed a voice from behind Lush. Heart pumping with fear and the pounding of her heart deafened her, and in her disorientation, she whipped around to find nothing. A split second later, a curdling laugh coiled around her mind, and the next minute, a dagger was embedded in the centre of her forehead, killing her instantly. The cannon blasted. As her body went to the floor, Foxy loomed over her. She was smiling in the darkness, and she was still able to see. Her hand touched the item that enabled her to see in the darkness.

"You should have been smart enough to use these." Foxy murmured, adjusting her glasses that looked like sunglasses on her nose. She had never seen these before, and they must have been a new creation of the Capitol, and she was very happy with the amount of use. If the Careers didn't know what these were, even though there were plenty of them buried in the pile of supplies of the Cornucopia (yes, she had raided the Cornucopia, _again_), then she could have great fun over the next couple of nights.

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><p><strong>Please Review :)<strong>


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